White Christmas in Dry Creek

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White Christmas in Dry Creek Page 19

by Janet Tronstad


  Contrition. She always fell for it. Every time her little brother said he’d help more or do better, she believed him. Gage had soft eyes that almost convinced her he meant what he said. Besides, she was older now. She could withstand that Cooper charm.

  “Okay.” She inclined her head to the woodpile. “Thank you.”

  As he trudged off, grabbing a wheelbarrow along the way, she headed for the house. She’d managed to get a wreath on the front door and the other day she’d bought a pine-scented candle. That was as far as she’d gotten with Christmas cheer.

  When she walked through the front door she shivered and wanted to keep her jacket on. But it was soaked through. She hung it on the coatrack by the door and did a quick search for her brother.

  Brandon was nowhere to be seen. She thought maybe he’d taken off with friends while she’d been out in the barn. He was hard to keep hold of these days. And he was less help now than he’d been as a little boy.

  She needed some warm clothes. The sound of wood thumping into a wheelbarrow meant Gage was still outside. She hurried upstairs to her room and pulled a warm sweatshirt over her T-shirt. Her hair was still wet so she ran a towel over her head, then dried her face. As she walked down the stairs, she heard clanking and banging from the living room. Wood smoke filled the air and she smiled.

  Gage Cooper squatted in front of her cantankerous old fireplace insert, rattling the vents and coughing as smoke filled the room. She hurried forward and twisted the right lever. The smoke started up the chimney again. He looked up at her.

  “Sorry, I couldn’t get it to work.”

  She shrugged off the apology. “It takes skill.”

  “I have skill.”

  “Of course you do.” She glanced at the pile of wood on the hearth. “Thank you for bringing that in. I could make you a cup of coffee but I don’t have a coffeemaker. I only drink tea.”

  “I’m good.” He shoved in another log. The embers glowed brighter, sparked, and the fire came back to life. “There you go.”

  He pushed himself to his feet. Layla’s hand went out to steady him, but she pulled back, unwilling to make contact. He smiled at her, as if he knew.

  “I’ll make tea.” She walked away, leaving him to make the slow trail after her. “And then you should go.”

  She called back the last without looking at him.

  He chuckled in response.

  When he entered the kitchen she turned, watching as he sat at the rickety old table that had been in the house since before her birth. The wood had faded. The chairs wobbled. She’d tightened them dozens of times over the years but they were close to being firewood.

  “So, how’s...”

  She cut him off. “Let’s not make small talk and pretend to be friends.”

  The microwave beeped and she pulled out a cup of hot water, dropping a tea bag in before chastising herself for sounding like a shrew. But the stern lecture didn’t last long. He deserved her anger.

  She looked at him as she dunked the tea bag. He had settled on one of those wobbly chairs, his left leg straight in front of him. His hat was on the table and he’d folded his arms over his chest.

  “I’m sorry that I hurt you.”

  “I think you’ve said that before.” She put the second cup of water in the microwave and brought the finished cup of tea to Gage.

  “I was a kid, Layla. I was spoiled and thought I could do no wrong. I didn’t think about your feelings.”

  The words stunned her because he sounded so amazingly sincere. His face looked sincere. His eyes looked sincere. She was not a good judge of character. She was the person who kicked the dog out of the house for chewing up shoes and then let him back in, thinking he wouldn’t do it again.

  The few relationships she’d had in her teen years had been with the wild ones her mother had warned her to stay away from. But then, at sixteen her mom had told her to fall in love with a Cooper, a man who would treat her right.

  Layla didn’t want to think of all the reasons her mom had said that to her. The list had been long. Her mom’s life had been hard. She hadn’t wanted her daughter to follow in her footsteps. Layla’s mom had wanted her to marry someone who would take care of her, who wouldn’t hurt her.

  “Layla, I mean it. I’m sorry.”

  “Right, I know. I’m no longer a naive kid, so thank you for the life lesson and now for the apology but...”

  He grinned again. “But you’d rather hold the past over my head.”

  I’d rather keep my heart safe. “I’d rather you drink your tea and go.”

  Because if he sat there any longer, she’d remember how it felt when they studied chemistry together, and how she’d discovered chemistry of a different kind when he kissed her, a sweetly chaste kiss but one that had changed her life. And then she learned that he’d been using her to get to her best friend. At sixteen, it had felt like the worst thing that could ever happen. If only she’d known how much more life could hurt, she would have cried less over him.

  As for her best friend, Cheryl, the friendship had ended. Not because of Gage, but because Cheryl had stayed in college when Layla had come home to raise Brandon. Cheryl married a man from Texas, and she had a baby now.

  From outside she could hear the loud engine of a truck. She heard laughter and then doors slamming. Brandon was home. After a few minutes he tumbled into the kitchen, bringing cold air and the strong odor of alcohol.

  “What’s for supper, sis?” He glanced in Gage’s direction, grinned and plopped into a chair that nearly collapsed. “What’s he doing here? Got yourself a new man? One with money?”

  Before she could stop him, Gage Cooper jumped out of his chair. He grabbed her little brother by the front of his shirt and pulled him to his feet. Gage’s face went red and Brandon’s went a few shades paler.

  “Don’t talk to your sister that way.”

  “Or you’ll what?” Brandon slurred. “What’ll you do, Gage Cooper?”

  “I’ll mop the floor with your sorry hide.”

  “Oh, right, because you always do the right thing.”

  Gage let him drop into his chair. Layla hurried to separate the two of them.

  “Gage, you should go.”

  Gage looked long at her brother and then at her. “Layla, you deserve more respect than that. More than either of us has shown you.”

  “He’s a kid. He’s made mistakes.”

  “He needs someone to yank a knot in his tail.”

  “It won’t be you. He’s my brother and we’re handling things.”

  “Of course you are.” He looked around and she knew that he was seeing the ramshackle house for what it was. The kitchen appliances were on their last legs. The floors were sagging in spots. Insulation was nonexistent. Wind blew in through the windows strong enough to move the curtains.

  “We are.” But she was barely holding it together at the moment. She knew how to be strong. But she didn’t know how to accept his sympathy.

  Gage leaned over Brandon again. “If I ever hear you talk to your sister like that again, you’ll answer to me.”

  “Whatever.” Her brother turned his head.

  Gage let out a long sigh and pushed his cup in front of Brandon. “I’ll take a rain check on the tea.”

  Layla nodded, too stunned to find the right words. She watched Gage shove his hat back on his head and walk slowly down the hall to the front door. A minute later his truck started, and she knew he was gone.

  The fight left her in one fell swoop. She sat down at the table and reached for the steaming cup of green tea. Brandon leaned forward and lost his lunch all over the kitchen floor.

  She was handling things.

  She was handling being a single parent to a rebellious teenager. She was handling the bills that had to be paid. And some
how she would handle Gage Cooper being back in town.

  ISBN: 9781460320440

  WHITE CHRISTMAS IN DRY CREEK

  Copyright © 2013 by Janet Tronstad

  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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