Christmas at Colts Creek

by Delores Fossen

  Brody knew Rowan wasn’t there. It was something he’d already checked on, and his brother was indeed at Colts Creek. The ranch hands were having their annual Christmas breakfast gathering that would last for at least a couple of hours. Brody wasn’t sure how this conversation with his mother would go, and he hadn’t wanted to risk Rowan being around for it.

  Darcia’s smile faded when she studied his face. “What’s wrong? Did something happen to Sweet Pea?”

  Sweet Pea. Janessa really needed to come up with an actual name before that stuck. It was cute now, but Brody doubted the girl would want people calling her that when she was a teenager.

  “Nothing’s wrong with the baby,” was all he said when he stepped inside. He took a moment to settle himself. “Mom, we need to talk about the visit you got from the PI Abe hired.”

  She turned away from him but not before he saw the surprise in her eyes. Surprise because she hadn’t expected him to know about that.

  “It was nothing,” she said, walking toward the kitchen. “He just wanted to ask me about the photo of Layla that Jimmy had sent me.”

  He had no trouble recalling word for word what Jimmy had said about Darcia, that she was a liar and that she’d had some part in Layla’s death. Of course, with all the crap that Jimmy had done, there was no reason to believe him. But still it was eating away at him.

  Brody followed his mother into the kitchen and watched as she used a spatula to place some of the cinnamon rolls on plates. “Are you planning on marrying Janessa so she can keep the baby?” she asked.

  His brain did a sort of mental stutter. “What?”

  Darcia just kept on plating up the rolls, but she also lifted her shoulder in a shrug. “Sophia said something. She was vague about it, but I got the impression that the adoptive mother might be trying to back out.”

  Yeah, and that was more than an impression. Janessa hadn’t pressured Char to give her an answer, nor had she told Teagan what was going on, but as the days and weeks dragged on, it seemed clear to him that Janessa needed to be looking at other options for the little girl.

  As for his own options, he obviously needed to make something crystal clear. “No, I won’t be marrying Janessa so she can keep the baby.”

  Darcia put the plates on the table, but she gave him a quick glance before she turned away again and started pouring some coffee. “But you might want to marry her for other reasons?”

  No need for Darcia to fill in the blanks on that. It was a really bad attempt to ask if he was in love with Janessa. He wasn’t. Nor were there any proposal or marriage plans in his future.

  “Janessa doesn’t need to be married to me or anyone else to adopt a baby,” he reminded her. “You should know because you weren’t married when you adopted Rowan.”

  With her back still to him, he saw her stiffen a little. “Yes. But Sophia thought that, well... It doesn’t matter what she thought.”

  Again, no need for blank-filling. Sophia and his mother had obviously had a conversation about their kids possibly being in love. Something that neither mom would likely approve of because of the way things had ended with Janessa and him a lifetime ago.

  “Janessa and I aren’t kids,” he reminded her. “And she’s going back to Dallas at the end of next month.” The next weeks would no doubt fly by.

  That was all he intended to say about his temporary sex life. Plus, he recognized dodging and stalling when he saw it, and his mother was definitely doing both of those things.

  Brody sat at the table, cupping his coffee in his hands, and he waited for Darcia to take the chair next to him. He’d considered how to start this chat but wasn’t sure if he had the right angle of throwing out a hot button to see if it spurred his mother into telling him the truth about Abe’s investigation and that visit from the PI.

  “My mind keeps circling around what happened to Layla,” he started. “I know I’m the reason she was in that car—”

  “No,” Darcia interrupted. “Your sister was in that car because Abe lent it to her.”

  Brody had wished a million or more times that what his mother had just said was true. It wasn’t.

  “I was the reason,” he insisted. “If I hadn’t argued with her, if I’d handled things better, she wouldn’t have been in that car in the first place.”

  She reached out and slid her hand over his. “You shouldn’t have had to handle things with her. You were only seventeen. I’m the parent, and I should have dealt with it, with her, before things went from bad to the worst possible thing that could happen.”

  Brody was well aware that his mother felt plenty of her own guilt about what’d happened that night, and yes, she was the parent. But Darcia hadn’t known all the stuff going on because Brody had kept it from her.

  “I knew that Layla had been sneaking around and drinking,” Brody explained. Not for the first time, either. It was something he’d repeated the few times that his mother had actually been willing to talk about the daughter she’d lost. “I didn’t tell you because I thought I could get her to straighten up.”

  Darcia shook her head and closed her eyes as if trying to shut out the memories. Brody knew for a fact that doing those things didn’t work. The memories were always right there behind you, ready to bite you in the ass.

  “Layla was acting out,” his mother muttered. “Some of it was normal teen stuff, but part of it was because she felt abandoned by her father. You felt that, too, but she handled it in a different kind of way.”

  Yes, by drinking and sneaking out at night. The car Abe had loaned her gave Layla an easier way of doing those things, but Brody figured she would have found another way had she not had that vehicle.

  “If I hadn’t been at work that night,” Darcia added, “the outcome of this could have been different.”

  He doubted that. Like finding another vehicle, Layla would have come up with a way to get around their mother.

  “I took away her keys that night,” Brody went on, “but I didn’t think to look for a spare.” That had been a big-assed mistake. So had arguing with Layla. “I told her she was acting like an idiot.” He’d also called her stupid and a couple of other choice words.

  It’d been like pouring gasoline on a blazing fire.

  Layla hadn’t run out then and there because she knew he would have gone after her. Nope. She’d shouted some predictable profanity at him, stormed into her room, slammed the door and locked it. Then, while Brody had been stewing over the argument and doing his own cursing, Layla sneaked out through her bedroom window, got in the car and sped away.

  And that’s where Brody’s string of big-assed mistakes exploded with a huge bang.

  He’d gone after her in his truck and caught up with her on the stretch of road that led to the interstate. Brody hadn’t been sure where she was going, but it’d been obvious she was trying to put some distance between him and her.

  She’d managed it, too.

  Brody had sped up. So had she. Until both of them were driving too damn fast. Because he had a little experience driving that particular road, he’d known to slow down on the deep curve just before the Longhorn bridge.

  Layla hadn’t done the same.

  She’d slammed into a tree, and by the time Brody had gotten to her, she was already dead. Sometimes, like now, the image of seeing her in that mangled wreck was as fresh and raw as it had been in the moment it’d happened.

  Brody pushed that grief aside as he’d done countless times. It wouldn’t stay gone, but he needed a reprieve so he could finish this conversation with his mother.

  “So, did Abe want the PI to investigate Layla’s death?” Brody came out and asked. “Is that why you don’t want to talk to me about it?”

  Darcia’s eyes widened, and her hand shook when she set her coffee cup on the table. “No. Why would you think that?”

  Because there was indeed
something about her death to be investigated. Something to be revealed anyway. Maybe Abe had gotten wind of it and wanted it confirmed.

  “There’s a reason the PI didn’t come to me with this,” Brody went on. “I’m thinking that reason was because Abe didn’t want to throw the hell of that night back in my face. So, Abe could have told the PI to talk to you instead.”

  Though that still would have been some hell-throwing since his mother was just as torn up about Layla’s death as he was. But Abe might not have minded Darcia being upset, and it was possible he’d wanted to spare Brody until he’d gotten to the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

  “Was that visit about Layla?” Brody pressed. “Was Layla the other matter that Abe wanted him to investigate?”

  “No,” Darcia repeated.

  Brody cursed under his breath when tears filled her eyes, and on a sigh, he started to get up so he could pull her into his arms. But Darcia stopped him by catching onto his hand.

  “Please sit down,” she said, her voice no louder than a whisper. “There’s something you need to know.”

  “Something about Layla,” he concluded.

  She shook her head, and it felt like a kick in the teeth when he saw twin tears spill down her cheeks. “Not about Layla. It’s about Rowan.”

  Everything inside Brody went still. He sure as hell hadn’t expected his brother’s name to come up, but his mind began to whirl with some really bad possibilities.

  “Are Rowan’s birth parents trying to get him back?” Brody snapped, and that was another kick in the teeth mixed with a hefty dose of anger. Because no one was going to take Rowan. He’d already lost a sister, and he wasn’t going to lose a brother, too.

  “No,” Darcia said once again. This time she took both of his hands, and her gaze locked with his. “Because I’m Rowan’s birth mother.”

  Well, hell. Brody tried to let the shock of hearing that sink in, but it didn’t.

  “Rowan is your son?” he managed to ask.

  “Yes, I gave birth to him when I was in California.” More tears came. Not hoarse sobs. They fell as quietly as her voice. “I had fake adoption papers done, and then I lied to everyone. Including Rowan and you.”

  Brody shoved his way past that shock and tried to follow this through. “Abe found out about Rowan, and he hired the PI to find the truth?”

  Darcia nodded, squeezed his hand even harder. “So did Jimmy. When he found out that Abe was having him investigated, he followed the PI, and Jimmy put enough pieces together to come up with the big picture.” His mother paused, sighed. “And the big picture is that Abe was Rowan’s father.”

  * * *

  “SWEET PEA’S SMILING,” Margo announced, bringing the baby into Abe’s office where Janessa was working.

  Janessa immediately set aside the email she was answering to look at the baby who may or may not have been smiling. The corner of her tiny mouth was indeed lifted, and her eyes seemed to be fixed on Margo.

  “It’s a reflex smile,” Janessa said. “I read about them. Most experts believe babies don’t actually smile until they’re about six weeks old.” Which wouldn’t be for another two weeks. “It could be longer for her since she’s a preemie.” Janessa had read all about that, as well. It was a nice change of pace from all the teen books and articles she’d studied since creating Bright Hope.

  “Well, she’s a fast learner,” Margo concluded with an exaggerated pout and a firm nod. However, there was nothing firm about her expression when she turned back to the baby. “Aren’t you a cutsie-wootsie fast learner, jelly bean? You’re GeeGee Margo’s Sweet Pea Patootie, and tomorrow you’ll have your very first Christmas-Missmass.”

  Janessa winced a little at the baby talk, but she didn’t insist Margo knock it off. She’d done some reading on this, too, and the experts were divided on whether it was good or bad. What was good was to have a lot of interaction with the baby, and Margo was clearly doing that. The woman had also clearly gone overboard with the Christmas-Missmass presents, too. There were at least a dozen presents under the massive tree in the great room.

  “Thank you for stepping up to take care of the baby,” Janessa said, and it had Margo looking up at her in surprise. “You’re amazing with her.”

  Margo brushed a kiss on the top of the baby’s head. “It’s not hard to be amazing with someone this precious.” Her eyes teared up a little. “Not having children is my biggest regret. Yes, an even bigger regret than letting Abe treat me the way he did by tossing me out.”

  Wow, then her no-children regret was huge since Janessa knew the depths of Margo’s hatred for Abe. After all, they’d both kicked Abe’s tombstone.

  “You could foster,” Janessa suggested. Then she thought of something else. Something she was still mulling around, but it was a good time to get Margo’s take on it. Especially since the conditions of Abe’s will would soon be fulfilled.

  “Did Sophia say anything to you about her suggestion of turning this house into a teen shelter?” Janessa asked.

  Margo beamed. “Yes, and I had some ideas about that. What if you used it for a transition house? You know, for those teens who are too old for Bright Hope but still haven’t gotten their lives together yet. Some could work here or finish school.”

  Obviously, Margo had given this more thought than Janessa had. There was a need for such a place, and it was the reason she’d often ignored a teenager’s eighteenth birthday just so he or she would have a little more time.

  “I’m not sure how the folks of Last Ride would like having a place like that here,” Janessa remarked.

  “Maybe a few sourpusses wouldn’t approve, but they’re just poopy-doopy sourpusses, aren’t they?” she added to Sweet Pea.

  That was possibly true, but it was something Janessa needed to look into. She could talk to Alma from the Last Ride Society. Or get Sophia to start asking around. Since it was her mother’s idea in the first place, Sophia would likely jump right on doing that. If Janessa went to Alma, then the woman would likely have questions about the research she hadn’t finished yet.

  “Why are you working in here?” Margo asked, her gaze skirting over the now-empty walls and shelves. With the exception of the desk, chair and his sneering portrait, all of Abe’s things had now been boxed up and moved into one of the storage rooms.

  Janessa shrugged. “The chair’s more comfortable than the one I was using in my bedroom, and there are electrical plugs everywhere.” She tapped her foot to the ones on the floor beneath the desk. “Plus, the view is great.”

  It was. She could see some of the pastures and one of the barns, which meant she often caught glimpses of Brody.

  “What’s this?” Margo moved closer to the desk and the small wrapped gift box that was tucked on the side of some files Kyle had sent her from Bright Hope.

  “My thirteenth birthday gift from Abe.” Janessa picked up the box, and as she’d done since she’d first discovered it, she put it back down.

  “You’re not going to open it?” Margo asked.

  “Eventually. I just keep thinking that I should do it when I’m not busy and when the mood is right.”

  Margo snorted. “Which might be never. You should open it tomorrow, on Christmas.” She looked back down at the baby. “Oh, look. Sweet Pea’s smiling at you now.” Margo finished that off with some cooing and babbling.

  The baby was doing another of those reflex smiles, but it looked like the real deal to Janessa. It didn’t spur her to baby talk, but she went closer so she could kiss the tiny fingers that were clutching onto the leg of her pink onesie.

  “Here, she wants you to hold her,” Margo insisted.

  Janessa decided to go with that theory, too, and she took the baby, snuggling her in her arms. Margo stayed right there, smiling down at the precious little face. The woman also appeared ready and willing to take the baby back at any
moment.

  There was a knock on the jamb of the open door, and when Janessa looked up, she spotted Velma Sue. Not alone. A lanky man with black hair was with her.

  “Oh, Matt,” Margo said, hurrying to him for a hug. “Well, you’re a sight for sore eyes. Actually, you’re a real sight for any and all eyes.”

  “Matt,” Janessa mentally repeated, and she recalled Brody mentioning a foster brother, Matt, who was a cop. This guy looked more cowboy than cop in his jeans, boots and pale gray shirt. He was even carrying a Stetson, and if he had a weapon, she didn’t see it.

  Margo eased back from the hug and turned the man to face Janessa. “This is Matt Corbin. Matt, this is Abe’s daughter, Janessa.”

  Oh, yeah, he had that cowboy smile down pat, too. Sort of a slightly lopsided grin that showed plenty of charm and verified Margo’s comment about his being a real sight. Janessa wasn’t tempted by this tasty-looking guy when she had Brody, but Matt was solidly in the hot-guy category.

  “Good to meet you,” Matt said, crossing the room toward her.

  Matt shifted that cool lopsided grin from the baby to Janessa. “And this must be the baby you’re fostering. Brody mentioned her last time we talked,” he added. “What’s her name?”

  “To be determined,” Janessa answered before Margo could spout out Sweet Pea. No need to add another person calling the baby by the nickname. “It’s good to meet you, too, Matt. Are you here to see Brody?”

  “I am. I drove down from Amarillo yesterday with my son and ex-wife so they could spend Christmas with her folks,” he added. “Figured I’d catch up with Brody while I was in Last Ride, but he’s not in his office. Not at his house or Darcia’s, either. Since he’s not answering his phone, I thought he might be here.”

  That got Janessa’s attention. “He’s not answering his phone?”