“Tell me about your mother,” he asked quietly.
She took a sip of the whiskey and grimaced. “She was a beautiful woman, small and slender. My brothers and father towered over her, but she only had to give a look and they toed the line. My father worshiped her. Her death devastated him.”
“And you?”
A heartbeat of silence passed between them. “I adored her. She always knew the right thing to say and when to say it. I missed that when she was gone. She used to wake me every morning and say, ‘Wake up, Jess, it’s a beautiful day.’” She stared at the glass in her hand. “It didn’t matter if there was a thunderstorm, she always said the same thing, ‘Wake up, Jess,’” she repeated softly, “‘it’s a beautiful day.’”
It had been a long time since she’d thought about that. And though the words brought an ache to her chest and moisture to her eyes, there was comfort in them, as well. “I was angry after that. Angry because everyone had lied to me about her dying. Angry because she was gone. Angry my father married another woman. My grades dropped and I started to hang with different kids. I was sneaking out at night, coming home late.”
Dylan took the glass from her hand and downed the remaining liquor, then refilled it and pressed it back into her fingers. “You turned out okay. Better than okay,” he added with a grin.
She tucked her hair behind her ears and smiled. “There was a big question over the issue in that period of my life. I spent a lot of time here at Makeshift. It was my own special place. Even as a child I’d felt good here, that I belonged here.” Her smiled faded. “But I came here with the wrong kids. Before I knew it, they were bringing alcohol here, and drugs.”
Dylan watched Jessica’s eyes narrow as she remembered. “One of the guys, Tim, brought some marijuana, and another one, Bobby, a bottle of vodka. I was too stupid to realize what they were up to, but after I had a few sips of alcohol, I caught on real quick. I tried to get away from them, but they were stronger than me.”
Dylan felt as if a fist were squeezing his chest. He tensed, waiting to hear what happened, yet not wanting to hear.
“What they had in mind,” she continued, “wasn’t what I intended at all. I started to panic. All I could think about was how disappointed my mother would be. How disappointed I was in myself.”
Dylan barely managed to contain the rage that poured through his body. She held his gaze, though he suspected she wasn’t truly looking at him.
“And then the most incredible thing happened,” she said. “I wasn’t afraid anymore. I stopped struggling, calmly looked at both of them and told them if they didn’t let go of me they’d be sorry. Of course they only laughed.”
She smiled slowly. “Then, as if someone was lifting my arm for me, I swung my fist and hit Tim. He flew across the room and smashed into the wall. Stunned, Bobby just stood there. I simply touched him, one finger to his chest, and it sent him sprawling. Gave him a broken nose.”
Dylan frowned at her. “I don’t understand.”
She leaned closer. “It’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, Dylan. It was Lucas. He wouldn’t let anyone hurt me. He’s always been here for me. That’s why I’m not afraid here. And that’s why I’ve got to build this center. For all those kids who need a place to go, to be with someone who understands. Someone who can whisper each morning, ‘Wake up, it’s a beautiful day,’ even when it’s not.”
Dylan could only stare. He tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. Her eyes were midnight blue, dark with earnestness. He had no idea what to make of her story, but he knew she believed it from the depths of her heart. He wanted to believe, too, but it was so incredible, so farfetched, reason refused to accept it.
But there was no reason with this woman. Only the sweet sensation of her compelling beauty, inside and out, drawing him closer even as he pulled away.
Setting the glass down, he gave in to the need to touch her and took her hand in his. It was cool and soft in his palm. “Jessica, if someone is trying to undermine this project, you aren’t safe here.”
She tensed at his words, but her eyes held his. “You’re here,” she said quietly.
Frustration and desire had him aching for her. That she would trust him like that, look to him for safety, brought forth a fierce primitive need to protect, to shelter this woman from any person who might harm her.
He’d almost told her the truth earlier, before the fire had stopped him. And now the time was hardly right. As if the time would ever be right, he thought with a sigh. He had to talk to Jake and Jared as soon as possible, but with Jared on his honeymoon, that wouldn’t be until Christmas.
He realized how tightly he was holding her hand and released it. “And what if I wasn’t here?” he asked.
A long moment passed between them. Then she blinked slowly and straightened with a shrug. “I managed before you came here, Dylan. I’ll manage after you’ve gone.”
The truth of her words, spoken with such cool indifference, had him grinding his teeth. He wanted to shake her.
He wanted to kiss her senseless and drag her upstairs.
But he would be leaving. They both knew that. It was wrong to pretend otherwise. “And how exactly do you plan to manage if someone decides this town ain’t big enough for the two of you?”
“I’ve got Hannibal.”
He rolled his eyes and shook his head. “You expect a dog to protect you out here in the middle of nowhere?”
“I seem to recall it was Hannibal who warned us about the fire this afternoon. We’d be sitting in ashes right now if it wasn’t for him.” She stood, her shoulders rigid as she faced him. “But the fact is, what I do or don’t expect is really no concern of yours, Dylan. And while I admit that some of my decisions may be bad ones, they’re still my decisions. I’ll live with the consequences.”
His fingers tightened around the glass in his hand. He knew she was talking about him now, about the night they’d made love. She’d neatly labeled him in the category of “bad decisions.” And while he understood, he sure as hell didn’t like it.
“That’s what I want to make sure of, Jessica.” He lifted his glass to his lips and downed the contents. “That you live, consequences or not.”
* * *
The church was finished Christmas Eve day. Late-afternoon sun streamed in through the new leaded windows, and the freshly varnished pews and floor shone brightly. Jessica set the pair of crystal candle holders that had been her great-grandmother’s on the altar, then draped a pine bough over the corners.
“Merry Christmas, Lucas and Meggie,” she whispered, and stood back to admire the church. A sudden breeze floated through the room, stirring the crystal teardrops on the candlesticks and creating a tinkly musical sound. Jessica smiled. “You’re welcome.”
Humming “Here Comes Santa Claus,” she turned and headed for the hotel, where the crew had gone ahead to wash up for eggnog, punch and sodas. She’d also made popcorn and holiday cookies, and wrapped a small gift for each of the kids. They’d worked hard to finish the church by Christmas, and she appreciated it more than she could say.
But none had worked harder than Dylan. Other than brief meals where strained silence had prevailed, she’d barely seen him since that night in the kitchen. And while she suspected that his diligence had a great deal to do with avoiding her, she also wanted to believe that he’d put in the extra hours because he, too, had wanted to see the church completed by tomorrow, and that Makeshift had become more than just another job to him.
Or that she’d become more than just another woman.
It was a dangerous thought, she knew. Dylan had made it clear he had no intention of staying on here. If she let herself fantasize that his physical attraction might grow into anything beyond that, she was setting herself up for the fall of a lifetime. She knew instinctively that once she gave her heart to Dylan, there’d be no turning back.
But she wanted marriage and a family, not a casual affair. Her plans did not include pining away for a
lost love. It would take her some time to forget him, but she would, she resolved, though the ache in her chest argued with her. She’d have a wedding here in Makeshift in the church he’d rebuilt, and she’d have children.
She’d nearly reached the hotel when Hannibal came bounding down the sidewalk. He barked sharply when he saw her, then turned and headed back to the hotel. He stopped at the doorway, barked again, then disappeared inside.
Frowning, Jessica followed the dog. No doubt he wanted a cookie. The beast hadn’t taken his eyes off the tray when she’d pulled it out of the oven.
When she stepped into the hotel lobby, her breath caught.
The boys all stood around a Christmas tree that nearly touched the twelve-foot ceiling. There were no decorations on the tree, but the branches were full and green and the scent of pine filled the hotel. She stared at the tree, then looked at the young men. They were all grinning to beat the band. Dylan stood off to the side, his arms folded and a crooked smile on his face.
Larry took a step forward and jammed his hands into his pockets. “We knew you didn’t have time to get out for a tree, so we all pitched in and bought you one. Sorry there’s no decorations. We sort of forgot about that.”
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, and reached out to touch one fragrant branch. “I don’t know what to say.”
“It was Dean’s idea,” Pete said, nudging the dark-haired kid.
Jessica smiled at the blush on Dean’s face. “Thank you. All of you.”
Tony pulled out a twig of mistletoe and, with a big grin, held it over his head. Laughing, Jessica kissed each boy on the cheek as the mistletoe was passed around. She hesitated when Pete handed the twig to Dylan.
“Go on, Jessica,” the kids taunted. “Dylan helped set the tree up, too.”
His dark gaze met hers, almost daring her, and the smile on his lips was challenging. She rose on tiptoe to place a kiss on his cheek, but he turned at the last minute and swooped down on her, circling her with his arms as he slanted his mouth against hers. The boys cheered and whistled, then clapped when Dylan finally released her.
She felt her face burn. And though his kiss infuriated her, it had also aroused her. That infuriated her all the more.
She frowned at him. “Punch?” she said, then turned away and headed for the eggnog, wishing there was something stronger that might settle her nerves.
She passed out her presents, and each of the kids thanked her as if she’d given them a new car. When she handed Dylan a package, as well, his look was one of astonishment. He hesitated a moment, almost unsure of what to do, then ripped opened the paper and pulled out the leather gloves she’d bought him. She felt her stomach flutter when he looked back at her with a smile as wide as the boys’.
They ate cookies and popcorn, and when it was time to go, they all hugged her and wished her a merry Christmas.
Dean was the last to leave. He held the baseball cap Jessica had given him in his hands, plus a present she’d bought for his little brother. He cleared his throat and stared awkwardly at the floor. “I appreciate all you’ve done for me, Jessica. Anything I can ever do for you, you just say so.”
She hugged the young man. “You get an education, then come back here and work for me.”
He smiled, then turned to Dylan. “You ready to go?”
Go? She looked at Dylan, who glanced at her, then nodded to Dean. “You go on. I’ll take my bike and meet you in town.”
When Dean left, she turned to Dylan. “You aren’t going to Jake’s with me?”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Jess. Dean mentioned his dad was going to a party tonight, so I thought I’d hang out in town with Dean and his brother.”
He was worried about Dean and Troy, Jessica realized. He wasn’t going to come out and say it, but she knew that was why he was going. He was afraid that Dean’s dad would come home drunk, and he didn’t want to see any harm come to the kids.
Her chest swelled with emotion. Would she ever understand this man? Outside, he had an edge as hard as a diamond. But inside, where it really mattered, where he let few people see, he had a quiet compassion, a tenderness she doubted even he’d admit to.
She felt a twinge—no, more like a stab—of disappointment that he hadn’t asked her along, but she understood. He had no ties here, no family. But she did. If she came along, Dean would feel as if he was being baby-sat.
Forcing a smile, she glanced up at him. “Somebody must have tipped you off that Savannah had Christmas carols planned. You’re off the hook now.”
“Jessica—” he stared at the gloves in his hand “—I won’t be back here tonight.”
Her disappointment settled into a hollow ache. “I’ll be fine, Dylan. You go on.”
He looked at her for a moment, started to say something, then mumbled, “Thanks again for the gloves,” and left.
The room was silent when he closed the door behind him and she was alone. Christmas Eve had always been a time of magic, a special night of anticipation, of excitement. A time to share with those you love.
And as she listened to the sound of Dylan’s bike driving away, her heart felt as empty as the branches on her tree.
* * *
The smell of mesquite filled the crisp air when Dylan returned from Cactus Flat later that night. His tires crunched gravel on the road beneath him; above him, the full moon shone silver and thousands of stars sprinkled the sky.
He’d passed through West Texas several times in his life, but he’d never noticed how beautiful it was here. He’d never seen bluer skies or wider spaces. Stone Creek was an exceptional place. He understood why it was important to all the Stone siblings, why they held on so fiercely to the land. There was no amount of money that could buy what J. T. Stone had left his children.
He cut his engine and coasted into Makeshift, then frowned at the sight of Jessica’s truck parked in front of the hotel. She was supposed to be at Jake and Savannah’s tonight, celebrating Christmas Eve. She wouldn’t have missed spending the evening with her family.
Unless something was wrong.
His body tensed at that thought, and a sliver of fear crept through him. He parked his bike and moved quietly toward the hotel. If there was a problem or if someone was there who shouldn’t be, he sure as hell didn’t want that someone to know he’d come back to town.
Through the leaded windows of the hotel-lobby door, Dylan saw the glow of a soft light. It almost appeared to be moving. A flashlight? he wondered, slowly opening the door.
His heart hammered as he stepped silently inside.
As he realized what the light was, his breath caught.
Ten
There were candles everywhere. Surrounding the tree, on the lobby counter, at the foot of the stairs. Flames jumped and flickered, shadows danced on the walls. The scent of pine and wax filled the air, along with the sound of “Waltz of the Sugarplum Fairies.”
Jessica sat cross-legged on an antique rug in the middle of the floor, Indian style, with a pillow propped behind her. Her dress was white lace, with a high collar and long fitted sleeves and waist. Her dark hair shone in the wavering light and hung loose over her shoulders and down her back.
His throat went dry. It was impossible to move. All he could do was stare. Breathe, he reminded himself.
A long strand of popcorn lay over her skirt and across the floor. Captivated, he watched as her slender fingers pulled a needle through each puff. He realized she was making garlands, and as he glanced at the tree, he saw she’d already draped several around the branches. Star and bell cookies, with red ribbons, hung beside them.
It was like something out of a Victorian storybook. A child’s fairy tale. He half expected her to disappear like one of her ghosts, but when she began to hum, he knew she was real.
He closed the door, and the soft click of the latch brought her head up.
“Dylan!” Her eyes widened with surprise. “What are you doing here?”
“Dean and his brother spe
nt the night with a friend.” He knelt down beside her. “But I might ask you the same question. I thought you were going to Jake’s.”
She finger-combed her hair away from her face and met his gaze. Her eyes were like glittering blue ice in the candlelight. “I got so caught up here I lost track of the time. I called Jake and told him I’d see them all tomorrow.”
Dylan glanced around at the shimmering lights. “Where’d you get all these?”
“They’re my emergency candles,” she said with a smile. “It was tradition in Makeshift to leave candles burning on special occasions. Besides, Christmas Eve and no decorations on the tree is an emergency in my book.” She waved a hand toward the tree. “So what do you think?”
He leaned back and looked at the tree. “I think it’s a good thing we didn’t have egg rolls or carrot sticks earlier.”
Laughing, she threw a piece of popcorn at him. “Be serious.”
He tossed the popcorn in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully as he stared at her masterpiece. “I think it’s the most beautiful tree I’ve ever seen.”
Her eyes darkened with pleasure. “You’re just saying that.”
“So like a woman.” He shook his head. “Fish for a compliment, then turn your nose up when you get one.”
She lifted her chin indignantly. “I wasn’t fishing.”
He raised one brow.
“Well, so maybe I was,” she admitted, threading her needle though several more kernels of popped corn. “But we women wouldn’t have to hint around if men would just come out and say something nice without prompting. Try it sometime.”
“A compliment without prompting?” Dylan shook his head. “There are rules against that.”
“It’s Christmas Eve.” She set her needle down. “Break the rules.”
Break the rules.
Her words, though spoken innocently, made his pulse begin to pound. Break the rules. That was exactly what he wanted to do. Break every damn one of them.
He looked at her, at the soft sparkle of light in her hair and her eyes. He felt a sudden ache, a longing so intense that his breath caught. Unable to resist, he reached out and touched the top pearl button at the base of her collar. It felt smooth and satiny. The way her skin did.
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