by Tanya Hanson
“My conscious is clear. But my reputation is sullied to some extent. I’m a CPA who’s supposed to be above reproach. Folks trust me with their money. Since this all broke six months ago, I’ve lost clients. I mean, I was a kid, but I knew what we were doing was wrong. But if he were to come forward…you know…” He raised his eyes to look into hers. “You know, when your teacher tells you to do something, you tend to mind him.”
“I think I do know. It would be hard to blow off your coach. But he’s back here…”
“Yeah. I’m afraid it’s to rub my nose in it. We were after the same job.”
“I thought you’re a CPA and a cowboy?”
“Oh, I am. But I love swimming almost as much as riding. It’s just a part-time job. We’ve got a hometown boy who’s come back to town, turned his old place into a guest ranch with an indoor junior Olympic size pool. He thought he’d avail the facility to a community competitive swim club, but he needs a coach. I put in for the job. But if I didn’t get the job because…because my rep has suffered, well, it seems like…”
“If Tony came clean, he shouldn’t get the job, either,” Tiffany said softly.
“Exactly.”
“And that’s what you have to forgive.”
“Well, among others.”
Relief all but swamped him, and he couldn’t think of anything to say. Tiffany got up for another cup, Matty watching her every move.
“He sure notices you,” Bragg remarked as the baby drained the bottle, his heart singing for a million reasons.
“Yeah. We bonded right away. I’m so glad about it.” She rushed on, like she was making a snap decision. “I left behind my precious nephew. I guess in my psyche somewhere, I figured maybe being a nanny to Matty might help ease that hole in my heart.” Gently she rubbed her fingers over Matty’s head, the edge of her hand tugging at Bragg’s shirt and causing a funny havoc. Mostly though, he listened to her pain.
She sank back down into a kitchen chair, resting her cheek in her hand. “I was with Connor from the moment he was born. Paul and Diana wanted me there. Then things went haywire. It was my fault. You talk about forgiveness, but there isn’t any in this case. And I miss that little boy. Oh, I miss him so. I need him. His love was unconditional, you know. He’s three now. I can’t let him forget me.”
Bragg’s heart tugged at the agony on her face, and Matty’s little hand flailed. Tiffany took it at once. “It can’t be that bad, can it?” he asked.
“I’ve been disowned, so, yeah, Bragg. It’s that bad.”
He barely heard her over the baby’s happy mumbles. After the noise of the storm, the blanket of snow quieted the world outside.
“But…” He ached to ask, but it wasn’t his place. It just wasn’t. If she had anybody to come clean to, it wasn’t him. Rachel was the only one who needed honesty. “Well, I am so sorry. Families are supposed to work things out. But Rachel and Nick had to wait quite a while to get this healthy little guy. I know she would never place him into the arms of somebody who wasn’t totally cool.”
Her eyes seemed to implore him.
“Totally trustworthy.” He went on. “So whatever went down can’t have been your fault.”
Her tears glistened. “Well, my family won’t ever agree, but I held nothing back when Rachel interviewed me. Your sister is a good woman. I will not let her down.” She kissed Matty’s tiny fingers, then stood up quick, running the back of a hand over her eyes. “You know what? Matty likes a warm shower. Either you, or me.”
“You go,” Bragg told her, hearing footfalls on both sets of stairs, Tony coming up from the basement and Scott coming down from the master bedroom. “I know how to whip up scrambled eggs. The natives are getting restless.”
****
But it was her fault. The warm water streamed as if it would wash everything away. But it never could, and Bragg’s kind words about forgiveness and family just didn’t cut it in this case.
Entirely her fault. It was Tiffany who’d told her stepmother about the paternity testing service often used by clients prior to consulting with a lawyer at the family law firm in Denver where she worked—just to get the woman to clam up.
Connor had his mama’s eyes but otherwise, looked nothing like either parent. Nonetheless, Tiffany had never doubted her nephew’s roots. Or she would never have gone through with it.
The paternity service had revealed Paul wasn’t Connor’s biological father. Tiffany had taken the brunt of Paul’s rage, became the scapegoat for the death of his dreams. “You shouldn’t have meddled,” he’d railed. “You should never have breeched my privacy. Our mom, she says she had nothing to do with any of this. And I believe her. How would she even know how to pursue such a thing? It’s your job to mess with people’s families. Your curiosity didn’t just kill the cat. It killed our relationship. I’m done with you, Tiff. You should have kept your nose clean.”
He’d cast out his unfaithful wife, and Tiffany, too.
At least, despite the biological proof, he’d kept the treasured Connor and loved him like his own. And the allure of being a grandmother had let her stepmother continue her adoration of the child. After all, she’d raised two children not of her flesh and blood.
Tiffany had to give Paul and Olga that much.
Today she refused to cry. She got herself and Matty snug in sweatsuits and dashed downstairs where Scott was showing off the manipulated family portrait on the coffee table. Peeking at the mantel, she saw the originals amidst the candles and pinecones as if they’d never been moved. It would be a tremendously lovely surprise, and the image of Rachel’s happy face on Christmas morning thrilled Tiffany.
Even Tony looked impressed with Scott’s handiwork, and Bragg wasn’t standing a ways off like Tony had cooties. Maybe that forgiveness thing had already started taking affect. But this was them. Not her.
Matty gave a baby chortle and all three men looked up at her.
“Come on. We saved you some eggs.” Bragg invited, gaze soft and warm. She knew he was recalling the kiss, same as she was, and the heat glazing her face had nothing to do with the now-roaring fireplace.
“All right.” She was starving.
Bragg reached for the baby, who went to him readily, and her empty tummy plummeted when he smiled, lazy and slow.
Tony nodded at the picture. “Good eggs. Good portrait.”
“That it is. It’s great, Scott.”
“Well, thank you kindly. But you had the idea.”
With a smile, Tiffany grabbed a plateful and headed for the big living room chair. Remembering Bragg’s remark with the pizza, she bowed her head perfunctorily, but he was checking out the Christmas tree. “I see it’s stopped snowing,” she began slowly. “Have you heard from the rest of the family?”
She remembered Bragg’s worry about everybody’s safety, and her heart tugged. Oh, Connor might, if he was old enough. She wondered what he’d been told. Nothing constructive, of course. Probably that she was bad and ran away. Which, of course, was not untrue.
Suddenly the eggs tasted awful.
“Everybody’s checked off and checked in.” Scott’s bright voice cheered her spirits.
“Rachel’s on her way, then,” Tiffany said with relief. Although Matty seemed content with her and his bottles, she expected the five-month old would eventually yowl for his mama and the real thing. His next meal would have to be formula, which he’d never had before. Rachel’s stash of breast milk had been depleted.
“Well, not exactly.” Bragg kissed Matty’s neck, which Tiffany already knew was one of the most delicious places on a baby’s body. The boy grinned and reached for a white, feathery dove nestled on a branch of the Christmas tree. “She’s waiting it out in Rustic Canyon at Nick’s aunt’s. But it’s a hard highway to clear.”
Something grumbled outside. Snowplow.
They seemed neither hopeful nor worried, and she reckoned it was par for the course around here. Lakewood, her stomping grounds, was civilization, with neatly-te
nded roads and no place to get lost or stranded. “So what, then?” she asked.
“She’ll get here as soon as she gets here,” Bragg said. “Matty, he’s in good hands, don’t you think?” His smile sent her heart frisking. Then it pounded overtime when he kissed the little boy’s downy head.
“I do.” She felt shy because the other two were watching. She’d had a lot of comfy moments with Bragg and Matty since yesterday, but the baby wasn’t hers, and Bragg was a man she could never have. Sure, he’d lost his integrity way back when, but he’d grown into a man of honor who had made things right.
Everything she’d done, she’d done as a woman who should have known better. And if her own family didn’t want her, there was no way she’d inflict herself on a group as wonderful as the Martins.
She stiffened her shoulders and turned her head, pretending a great interest in scrambled eggs and pico de gallo long gone cold.
“Well, I hear the plow coming. Gotta get my truck dug out and leave you fine folks in peace.” Tony stretched and headed to his coat and boots in the mudroom. “Thanks for putting me up, that’s for sure.”
“I’ll help you.” Scott offered, stretching.
Tiffany smiled. Ah yes. That forgiveness.
“Need to get some exercise. Too much computering.” Scott climbed into his outer gear, too. Each grabbed a snow shovel stacked against the mud room wall, and cold air blasted through the room when the door opened and they stalked out.
Cold it might be, but the air smelled fresh and real.
“How come the power’s on but the phones don’t work?” Tiffany asked Bragg, mostly to fill the silence in the room. From the open door, she’d heard the shouts and laughter of neighbors already at work on their shoveling chore, but all was quiet inside except for the crackling fireplace and Matty’s occasional coo.
“Hard to say, but I’m guessing phone wires through Grabber Pass iced up. Here in the most modern town of Mountain Cove, we have some underground power cables. Might have helped. Nick has a gas-powered generator outside, though. He’s got circuitry that keeps the power from leaving the house, so a utility man won’t get electrocuted thinking he’s working on a line without power.” Then he grinned. “I know there’s a UPS around here. It’ll keep the modem and router going so we’ll never be totally cut off.”
“UPS? The package delivery company?”
“Nope.” His grin melted her toes. “Uninterruptable power supply. It can keep a computer going for quite a while. And DSL signals usually remain even when electricity is out.”
“Blah, blah, blah,” Tiffany said with a chuckle. Modern woman she might be, but her expertise was nitpicking contracts and agreements to death. Let somebody else handle the high tech. From a stash by the fireplace, she unrolled Matty’s play mat complete with over-hanging toys. Then she took him from Bragg’s arms and placed him on the floor to stretch out and amuse himself.
Bragg looked positively bereft at his empty arms. “Now, now.”
She smiled at him, breathing hard when he tossed back a devastating grin. “I could hold Matty forever, myself, but he loves to play. He’s turning over and one day soon, will start sitting up. That doesn’t happen on somebody’s lap.”
Bragg glanced at his watch. “Not quite eight o’clock. Ma usually comes to town on Saturday mornings to get the pews dusted at church and to make sure all the offering envelopes and prayer-request cards are filed next to the hymnbooks.”
“Y’think she’ll get all the way here from Hearts Crossing?”
“Nope.” Bragg grinned again. “Plow might go through the main road, but she’d never get our drive done by herself. I checked my email. Hoop stayed with Mallie’s aunt last night, and Kenn and Christy camped out at the principal’s. Chelsea’s at the Double D. And all of the above means that Ma is holed up with twelve five-year olds. They did get back to the ranch OK after their one-horse-open-sleigh ride. But their folks couldn’t get to the ranch to retrieve ‘em.”
Tiffany couldn’t help a burst of laughter. Even though she hadn’t been here long, everybody talked about Elaine Martin and how she managed to have ten fingers in as many pies all the time. If anybody could handle getting snowbound with a dozen younglings, Bragg’s ma was it.
“So what I’m thinking is…” Bragg said in his slow drawl. “How about you and me doing it for her? Bundling up Matty and hiking down the road to Community Church.”
Tiffany wondered if he’d read her mind about the scent of snow on the fresh air. A church wouldn’t have been her first choice of destination, but she had to consider the source. And as unwise as it was, she’d probably hike anywhere he suggested. “I think it’s a fantastic idea. Let’s get ready. Unless…” She pointed outside to where Scott and Tony held a masculine measuring contest as to who could shovel the most snow the fastest. Ah, she knew men. “Unless you feel the need to go out and help.”
She meant it as a joke, but Bragg hesitated. Obviously, he wasn’t ready to confront Tony, yet. “Naw. I’ve got snow gear in my truck. Looks like those two have cleared enough of the way to let me get it.” He guffawed.
“All right. Meet you back here in a sec.” She grabbed the baby and headed to the nursery for Matty’s maroon snowsuit. His little face peeked from the draw-stringed hood. Slipping into jeans and a fisherman knit sweater warmed her up. Her own coat and boots were downstairs.
Grabbing the strap-on baby carrier, she had no doubt Bragg would preen wearing it. But he wasn’t downstairs waiting. When she peeked out behind the Christmas tree, she saw him gabbing with Scott outside.
“Howdy,” Tony’s voice startled her, but sounded shy at the same time. Heart pounding, she hadn’t heard him come in, but with Bragg in plain sight, she likely wouldn’t have noticed or cared, anyway. “I’m mostly dug out,” Tony said. “Got all-wheel drive. It won’t take any trouble at all to get to the motel. The plow’s been through. Thanks for putting me up.” He dug in his pocket like he was after money.
She waved at his hand. “No. You’re welcome. Rachel won’t have minded a bit. I couldn’t have let you venture out in that storm.”
“I’m surprised her brothers let me stay.” His tone was short.
“Then you underestimate them. Goodness seeps out of that family from the pores of their skin.”
“Well, that it does. But Bragg imagines I wronged him a while back, and, well, it might have got mentioned yesterday. I’m after a job he applied for.”
Tiffany’s eyebrows rose. Although not surprised that Tony disavowed any wrongdoing, today he sure didn’t sound like the job was a sure thing, or a secret. The news was likely to encourage Bragg’s spirits, but she decided to play dumb. None of it was her business, anyway. “I’m new around here. I don’t keep up with the gossip, yet. You didn’t get the job?”
“No, they haven’t made a decision yet. I’ve interviewed on the phone but they want a face-to-face.” Tony ran his fingers through his perfect dark hair and for a flash, she caught a whiff of bashfulness. Of course, he wore his jeans and dark gray sweatshirt from yesterday, but he’d obviously availed himself of soap, comb, and toothbrush from the charity hygiene kits. Although not in the same strapping outdoorsy way of Bragg and his brothers and not nearly as tall, he was still drop-dead handsome.
“Tiffany, I don’t, well, I don’t know if this is the right time, but well. I was wondering if you’d go out with me sometime. There’s a nice steakhouse in Promise.”
To say she was surprised at his invitation might be the truth, or not. Since yesterday, she had to admit she’d been aware of him and the glances he’d tossed her way when he hadn’t thought she or Bragg were looking. But still. A date?
Matty grumbled in boredom, and she brought herself back to the moment. She was on her way to church with Bragg. Thinking the absurd sentence had her laugh out loud. She’d already alerted Bragg to the fact that she didn’t date anybody, but of course, she’d totally meant she couldn’t date him. From what she’d learned about Tony, he was just
like her, another lost soul with sins to atone, the kind of man she deserved in her iniquitous state. No reason not to accept. It wasn’t a proposal of marriage, or anything. Just dinner with a good-looking guy.
“I’d like that,” she told him, hoping he read her laughter as enthusiasm. He must have because, right then, the front door opened and Tony leaned down, hurrying to place a kiss at the side of her mouth.
He wasn’t Bragg and didn’t taste like Bragg, but she wasn’t repelled and figured that was a good thing.
“Hey, Tiffany. You ready, yet?” Bragg said, dry and toneless from the entryway. The way he looked in a long knit scarf cozied about his neck and Stetson low on his forehead did something crazy to her heart.
4
“I’ll help you get your car soon as we can. But maybe if Rachel makes it back in time, we can go out tonight. If the roads and weather are good, I mean.” Tony was saying, and Bragg clenched his fingers inside his gloves.
Tiffany wasn’t looking at Bragg, even though he’d just asked her a question about being ready. Her face was pink. This was the woman who flat out said she didn’t date anybody. And here she was, planning to go out with Tony O’Neal.
His heart thudded and his jaw clenched. Tony O’Neal!
“We’ll have to see.” Tiffany finally glanced Bragg’s way. “I can’t make any plans without consulting her. Listen, Tony, Bragg and I have Matty to tend to right now. You be safe, OK?”
“Will do.” He saluted as he left, never looking at Bragg. “And thanks.”
Bragg had to hold on to his temper although some of the heat he felt came from the day warming up nicely outside. The sun was showing its head. Well, above freezing on a December day was warm enough for him. Ice would melt, although that did make slick roads after the sun went down. Sending up another quick one, he prayed Rachel and all the kindergarteners would get home safe.
