by Jill Kemerer
He tried to breathe. “The worst thing—and I know it’s unforgivable, I know it is—I’ve fallen in love with Brittany Green all over again. No, I didn’t talk to you about her. I’m well aware I made her off-limits as a topic of conversation when you and I were together. I guess that alone should have warned me. I never really got over her.”
His heart was being wrung out and guilt overwhelmed him. God, help me tell her the rest.
“I can’t keep my promise. I’m in love with Brittany, Mia. I’m not the man I thought I was.”
His shoulders shook as he sobbed. Snow seeped through the knees of his jeans, and the frigid air sent tremors through his body.
“Forgive me.” He stood and raised his head to the sky. “God, forgive me.”
He hadn’t felt this drained in a long time.
“Forgive me,” he whispered, dropping his chin. “Merry Christmas, Mia.” He closed his eyes and tried to picture her. Her smiling face was vivid. “You’re a hard person to let go.”
As he strode back to his truck, the oppressiveness of the past years lifted, and he knew he was going to be all right.
* * *
Brittany held a mug between her hands as she watched the sunrise outside the living room window. Sitting cross-legged on a chair, wrapped in a blanket with an unopened Bible in her lap, she let her thoughts scatter. Didn’t even try to hold on to them as they darted here and there.
A terrible sense of loss permeated her, but at the same time, hope and clarity kept her from falling apart.
It didn’t seem possible today was Christmas Eve. Her life, her entire reason for being, had shifted since arriving here. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that moving was the right decision. Too bad she had doubts about everything else.
She turned her attention to the Bible. Her Bible. A gift to herself five years ago when she’d joined a large church in Santa Ana. Before then, she’d been distant with God, figuring life out for herself. The first time her loan application had been rejected, she’d fallen to her knees and prayed. The prayers led to buying the Bible, and the Bible led to going to church. All had given her the strength to keep saving, to keep her dream alive.
Did I get it all wrong, Lord? Why did I put my life on hold all those years if I was going to end up here, anyhow?
She thought of Charles and the handful of guys she’d barely dated. Had she really put her career first? Or had it been an excuse to avoid having a relationship?
I didn’t give them a chance. I used the excuses of saving for the studio and my side jobs to hold them at bay.
Why? Why had she done that?
The answer was there, somewhere. She opened the Bible. Might as well read the Christmas story instead of wallowing in whys. As she turned the pages, her gaze fell on the passage the pastor had discussed on Sunday. For He that is mighty hath done to me great things; and holy is His name.
Closing her eyes, she went back—all the way back—to the night she and Mason had broken up so spectacularly. For years she’d berated herself for causing him pain. She’d held back from love. Convinced herself dance was the only avenue for happiness.
And God had worked it all out, anyway. She didn’t begrudge Mason marrying Mia. If not, he wouldn’t have Noah. And she didn’t regret her own path, either.
If she hadn’t struggled these past ten years, she wouldn’t have gotten back into praying, or reading the Bible or relying on God. She also wouldn’t have worked as hard as she had—soon she’d be the proud owner of a dance studio.
God had done mighty things for her.
Maybe she was ready for it now—ready for Rendezvous in a way she hadn’t been ten years ago. One thing she knew for sure? She would never find her identity in leading an elite dance team or even owning a studio. And she wouldn’t find it in Mason, either.
Lord, strip it all away, and I’m still Yours. I don’t need a studio or a dance team or even a husband. All I really need is You.
The beauty of His grace brought tears of gratitude, of regret, of love. She was going to be okay.
* * *
As Mason drove away from the cemetery, he prayed out loud.
“God, sometimes I feel like You don’t let me have the things I want most.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he let out a deep breath. Here we go.
“It seems like I’m always waiting for the next catastrophe. I know I need to have faith, but I can’t stop this fear inside me.”
No one else was on the road. He noted the cattle in the distance as he tried to get his thoughts together.
“I’m afraid, God. I’m afraid of letting Brittany in and losing her, too. I’m afraid of falling so hard I won’t be able to pick myself up if You take her to be with You the way You did with Mia.”
He’d survived ten years without Brittany. He’d married, had a child and buried his wife.
“And I’m more confused than ever because what Bill said back there—it shocked me. Is he right? Would Mia want me to be happy—with another woman? I can’t imagine it.”
What if he had been the one who died? Would he want Mia to be happy if it meant marrying another man?
Was someone pelting his chest with a mallet?
He pictured her the way he’d been for the past three years—lonely and burdened with bills and guilty with grief—and he exhaled, long and loud.
He’d want her to be happy. Even if it meant marrying someone else.
As the truck rolled along, he let his mind go.
What should I do? Will You help me?
Brittany reminded him what it felt like to be alive, to be accepted, to be valued.
Could he survive ten more years without her? Did he want to?
He would shrivel into a bitter, ugly man.
Brittany brought out the best in him. He couldn’t take another ten years without her.
He needed her. And he was finally ready to accept it.
Chapter Fifteen
Hope and dread wound like ribbon around her throat. Brittany read the text twice.
Meet me at the tire swing in ten minutes.
She’d heard those exact words from Mason every weekday in the summer. As soon as he’d finish his ranch chores, he’d scarf down lunch and call her. She’d looked forward to his daily call more than she cared to admit.
And here she was, almost thirty years old, and the words still sent her pulse into a tizzy.
“I’m going out to the barn for a little bit, Nan,” she called. It was still early in the morning. The Christmas Eve service was hours away.
“Okay, honey.”
As she pulled on her coat and boots, she admired the Christmas tree. It filled the room with its fragrant scent. So much had changed since she’d arrived. How could it have been only last week that she and Mason and Noah had chopped it down?
She went out the front door and took her time getting to the barn. The fresh, crisp air kissed her cheeks.
Why did Mason want to meet her? He’d already made it as clear as the blue sky above he had no room for her in his heart.
Whatever he wanted to say, she’d hear him out. But she wasn’t budging on moving here.
She looked around the land and couldn’t wait to explore it again. The line of trees in the distance probably housed wildlife she didn’t know about. A creek snaked around the other side of the ridge past the barn. Hot springs were within driving distance. When summer arrived, the rodeos would return, and she could practically taste the greasy food she used to buy at them.
If only Mason would share it all with her...
She’d stay out of his way. Keep an emotional distance, as well. It might kill her, but she’d respect his wishes.
Just because she’d fallen back in love in a matter of minutes didn’t mean the feeling was mutual. And why would it be? His life was fuller than hers. He had a son and a
wife he was mourning and a twin brother to get to know and an entire town who supported and loved him.
He didn’t need her.
Not the way she needed him.
She’d been rash to unload her feelings on him yesterday.
The barn door slid open easily. The swing was the first thing she saw. She closed her eyes, remembering all the times she and Mason had shared their dreams, laughed at each other’s jokes and just hung out together, content to be with each other.
Ten years of not having him... An inferno burned inside her to have those moments with him all over again.
Meow. One of the cats rubbed against her leg.
“Oh, kitty, you’re hungry, aren’t you?” She bent down to pet its ginger head. The cat began to purr. “Come on, let’s get some food. I should have brought you a Christmas feast. I’ll bring you leftover ham later, I promise.”
She poured kibble into the dishes and filled the water bowls. After petting each cat, she checked her phone. Ten minutes had come and gone. And there was no sign of Mason.
Plunking down on a bale of hay, she watched the cats lick their paws and stretch.
Christmas Eve in a barn. Far away from her home in California...
She sniffed in amusement—not the same as Bethlehem, that was for sure. But the similarities made her smile. On a whim, she stood and did a pirouette, then she attempted a dance combo across the dirt floor. She chuckled and tore off her puffy jacket. Although winter boots didn’t bring out her most graceful moves, she continued dancing.
Oh, Lord, thank You for taking my mind off you-know-who for a moment.
“I could watch you dance all day.” Mason stood in the doorway, his shoulder against the frame.
She froze. Her heart jackhammered in her chest as he strode to her, confident, tall and intense. His eyes never left her face. And she recognized the aching need in them.
Don’t get your hopes up. His eyes and his mouth might say two different things.
She tilted her chin to prepare for whatever he was about to say, but to her surprise, he didn’t stop.
He scooped her into his arms and carried her to the swing. She couldn’t protest—didn’t know how.
Almost as soon as she was in his arms, he set her on the swing and knelt next to her. What was he doing? Being near him put a cloud of confusion over her thoughts.
His lips curved up in a tender smile. “Do you know how many times over the years I wished I’d find you here?”
She shook her head, words refusing to form.
“I’d guess about a million, give or take.” He took off his gloves and tossed them to the side. She could feel his warm breath on her face. He traced her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “I don’t want to go another ten years without you.”
Had she heard him correctly? Or was this a dream?
“You don’t?” Her voice squeaked. Everything inside her—even the tips of her toes—tingled with anticipation.
He shook his head. “No. I’ve been pretty uptight for, let me see...” He lifted his gaze to the ceiling.
“Your entire life?” She easily fell into the teasing tone she reserved just for him.
“Yeah, I think that sums it up.” His grin made him look younger, more carefree. “But when I’m with you, I feel more like me. It’s hard to explain.”
She knew exactly what he meant. When she was with him, she felt more like herself, too.
“I like who I am when I’m with you.” He took her hand in his.
Her heart clenched. For years she hadn’t been essential to anyone. To hear Mason say it...
“I like who you are,” she said. “You’re special, Mason. There’s no one else like you.”
“I don’t know why you feel that way, Brit.” He shook his head. “When it comes to you, I’ve been selfish. After high school I asked you to give up everything you wanted to fit into my world. It never even occurred to me to fit into yours. It was easy to blame you and your boyfriend back then. But you’re right—he wasn’t the real reason we broke up. You needed to go to college and chase your dreams. You wouldn’t have been happy here.”
She couldn’t deny it. She had needed to go to college and experience the world for herself.
“I don’t regret leaving.” She kept her hands around the ropes, not trusting herself to let go. All she wanted to do was touch him. “I needed to figure out who I was.”
“You’re exactly who you were—but even better.” His eyes gleamed. “And now you’re actually willing to give up your life and dreams to be here—in my world. I threw it back in your face yesterday. Don’t think I haven’t spent every minute since then thinking about you. I have to ask you something, though. How do you feel when you’re with me? Do you like who you are when I’m around?”
She frowned. What was he getting at? Of course she liked who she was when they were together.
“Is this a trick question?”
“No...” He tossed his head back. “I mean, after you’re with me do you feel better or worse? Some people drain you. I don’t want to be that guy.”
She lowered her gaze. “I feel accepted. Known. But no, I don’t always like who I am when I’m with you.”
His expression darkened.
“I used to, Mason.”
“I deserve that.” He ducked his chin, nodding. “I thought the worst of you for years. I was awful—rude—when you showed up with Ryder. I accused you of not taking care of Nan. I can’t imagine why you’d want anything to do with me. I’ve done nothing to earn your trust.”
* * *
He wanted to reach out and catch the emotions dancing through her pretty blue eyes. He felt stripped of the things that made him who he was. With Mia, he’d felt he had a lot to offer—his love of ranching, family, a future. But with Brittany, he’d become keenly aware that none of his assets were things she cared about.
It would be a lopsided relationship with him taking all her goodness and giving little in return.
“That’s not what I meant,” she said gently. “When we were young, I felt full of life and pretty and exciting when I was with you. You accepted me as I was. And when I’m with you now, I can see my inadequacies. It’s not because of anything you do or say.”
“I’m sorry, Brittany. I don’t mean to make you feel that way.” He covered her small hands still clutching the ropes with his.
“There’s nothing to apologize for. I see how you care for Nan. Day in, day out. I see the way you are with Noah. The responsibilities you never shirk. You’re kind to your in-laws even when they’re overbearing. You’re paying off hospital debts and never complain about it. If anything, when I’m with you, I want to be more like you. You make me want to be better.”
Once again, she’d blindsided him, but this time with grace and compassion and things he didn’t deserve from her.
“You couldn’t be better. You’re already the best.” He leaned in. “I don’t want you to be anyone but who you already are. You’re easy to be with—do you know how hard it is for me to be comfortable around people? But you fit in with everyone. And you’re fun. You’re kind. You care.”
Teardrops glistened below her lashes.
“Don’t cry. I don’t want to upset you.” He flicked a drop away with his thumb. “I’m only saying this because you’re incredible, and I don’t even think you know it.”
“Mason, will you level with me?” Worried eyes met his.
“Yes.”
“Why are you saying all this? Last night you made it clear Mia was it for you. There was no room for me. Ever.”
“I wasn’t ready.” He averted his gaze for a moment. “But today—well, a lot has happened today. I made peace with Mia. I talked to Bill. I even talked to the good Lord. I lost my parents and twin brother as an infant. I lost my grandparents as a young adult. I lost my wife way before I
ever should have lost her. And I lost you once. I don’t want to lose you again.”
“What are you saying?” Her eyes glowed with hope.
“I’m saying I love you. I’m saying I want you to move to Rendezvous, and I want to get to know you all over again. I’ll help you fix up the studio. If you need me to dress up like Jack Sparrow, I will. I’ll do whatever you want, but please tell me you’ll be mine.”
He held his breath.
She looked shell-shocked, then she exhaled and everything changed. Her eyes crinkled in the corners and her lips curved into a wondrous smile.
“I’m yours.” She wound her arms around his neck. “I’ve always been yours.”
That was all he needed to hear. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. She tasted like a summer dream. Sunshine and beach and bottled-up joy. He cradled her face in his hands and drank her in. This woman—they were meant to be together. Slowly, he ended the kiss.
“Oh, Mason...” They stared into each other’s eyes. “I got an idea while watching White Christmas with Nan the other night.”
“Oh yeah?” He couldn’t tear his gaze from her lips.
“I think we should re-create the dance scene with the sisters.”
“With the blue feathers?”
“Yeah.” Her smile lit her face.
“I’m in.” He’d prance around with blue feathers, slay a dragon—anything for her. “Can I ask why?”
“I don’t know. It’ll be fun.” She shrugged, grinning.
“Good enough for me.” He untangled himself from the swing and held out his hand. “Merry Christmas Eve.”
“Merry Christmas Eve.” A smirk lifted her lips. “Do me a favor.”
“What?”
“Give me a push like you used to do.”
He laughed. “Think you can handle it?”
She wiggled her eyebrows. He gave her a big push, and she squealed, leaning back until the swing slowed.
After she hopped off, he pulled her into his arms. Then he kissed her again. He thought ahead to all the afternoons they had to look forward to and not just in the summer, but all year long.
