Nearest Thing to Heaven (Maverick Junction)

by Austin, Lynnette

  On the surface the day seemed so ordinary. Yet as Sophie poured chocolate and marshmallow cereal into bowls and drowned it in milk, she wondered if anything would ever be the same.

  When the food hit the table, the boys wolfed it down so fast, she asked, “You did feed them last night, didn’t you?”

  “Hell, yes. They’d eat a person out of house and home if you’d let them. And they’re only four. I’m gonna have to work a second job to feed them in a few years.”

  Watching them tip the bowls to slurp up the last of the milk, she said, “I’ve got a feeling you might be right about that.”

  “Sophie?” Jonah chewed his last mouthful of cereal.

  “Yes, honey?”

  “Did you falled down? You got a boo-boo on your face.”

  “A boo-boo?”

  He nodded.

  She raised a hand to her bruised cheek, and Ty’s eyes grew stormy. “I did fall, yes.”

  She hadn’t given it a thought this morning, or she’d have covered it with makeup before letting the boys see her. She should have combed her hair, too. Threading splayed fingers through the tangled mess, she could only imagine what she looked like. Purple cheek, disheveled hair. A wonder the kids hadn’t gone running when they saw her—away rather than toward her.

  Ty, coffeepot in one hand, mug in the other, looked angry enough to kick that ass as he’d promised last night.

  She met those dark gray eyes and silently begged him not to contradict her. How did you explain someone like Nathan to young innocents? That kind of ugliness could wait till they were older. Till they could understand people like Nathan made up only a small minority of mankind.

  “That’s why I brought her home with me last night, Jonah. She got hurt, so I thought we could keep her here with us for a few days till we make sure she’s okay.”

  “Thanks, Daddy.” Jonah scooted off his chair and wrapped his arms around her legs. “Daddy’ll take care of you. When we fall down, he always makes it better.”

  “I know.” Despite her resolve, Sophie’s eyes misted. God, she’d miss these boys. “He’s a good daddy, isn’t he?”

  “Uh-huh.” Satisfied, Jonah went back to his cereal bowl, obviously hoping it had been magically refilled in his absence.

  “Thank you,” she mouthed to Ty.

  His only answer was cocked brows.

  “Okay, guys. Upstairs. Teeth brushed, hair combed, clothes on. All of you.” He herded them out of the kitchen, and they tore off to do his bidding, leaving a stunned Sophie in their wake.

  “I have to supervise,” he said, trailing behind them. “Shouldn’t take long.”

  Ten minutes later, they all swarmed back into the kitchen where she was loading the dishwasher.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” Ty said.

  “If I’m staying here, I’m pulling my weight. I’m not an invalid.”

  “I didn’t imply—”

  “What’s an inbalid, Daddy?” Josh tugged on Ty’s jeans.

  “Somebody who’s sick,” Ty answered.

  “Sophie’s an inbalid ’cause of her boo-boo, Daddy?”

  Drying her hands on a dishtowel, she crouched in front of Josh. “My boo-boo doesn’t hurt anymore. I’m okay.”

  The little boy nodded, so solemn Sophie’s breath caught in her throat.

  Before she could say anything else, the horn tooted outside announcing his parents. Sophie swore a Cat. 5 hurricane had been unleashed inside the house. Last-minute scrambling unearthed Josh’s missing sneaker and Jonah’s hat.

  Jesse tried one last maneuver. “My belly hurts.” His bottom lip pouted.

  “Uh-uh.” Ty shook his head. “You pulled that last week with day care. The minute Haley’s bumper disappeared from sight, you were fine. Not gonna work again.”

  “But, Daddy—”

  “No but daddies.” He bent to kiss the child, and Jesse threw his arms around his neck.

  “Love you, Daddy.”

  “Love you, too, pal.”The scene repeated twice more before he finally scooted them out the door. Sophie stood in the window and watched as he patiently got them all situated and buckled in. Then he rested his hands on the open passenger-side window and said something to his parents. Ty’s mom glanced toward the house, and Sophie knew he was talking to them about last night. Her own stomach churned.

  A minute later, Ty backed away from the car. He stood at the end of the drive and waved them off before stomping his feet on the porch and heading inside.

  “Do you think Jesse might really be sick?” she asked.

  “Nope. And they need routine. We all do.” He rubbed his chin. “I asked Mom if she and Dad would take the kids home with them today after the service.”

  “You told them what happened.”

  “I did.”

  She closed her eyes. “I’m so ashamed.”

  “Hey.” Ty pulled her hand away and held it in his own. “You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

  “Things should never have reached that point.”

  “Not your fault, Sophie. You did nothing to encourage him.”

  “Still…”

  “Still nothing. You’re just going to piss me off again if you try to take the blame for what that jerk did.”

  “You’re right.” She blew out her breath. “Will your mom mind keeping the kids?”

  “Are you kidding? She and Dad love having them. They go there most Sundays, anyway. This will give you a bit longer to get your feet back under you.”

  “Thanks.”

  He leaned toward her for a careful kiss. “And that’s thanks enough. As much as I hate to leave you, Tink, I have work to do. Livestock likes to eat—even on Sundays. Will you be okay here alone, or should I call one of the other hands to cover for me?”

  She laughed. “I’ll be fine, and I have work to do, too. I brought my laptop along. Besides, Lilybelle and Trouble are here to guard me.”

  The cat had sneaked down the stairs the minute the kids stepped out the door. She and Trouble eyed each other uneasily from the length of the room.

  “Go on,” Sophie said. “Go be a cowboy. Do whatever it is cowboys do.”

  He caught her around the waist and pulled her close. “They like kissing their women, for starters. Sure was tough sleeping last night, knowing you were across the hall. The temptation nearly swallowed me whole.”

  He nipped at her bottom lip, and she opened her mouth to him.

  “I won’t stay here any other way. Not with three little boys in the house.”

  “I told you they sleep like—”

  “I know.” She tugged at the neck of the flannel shirt he’d thrown on, drew him close again, and kissed him as if it had to last her a lifetime. “Now go to work. I’ll finish pulling the kitchen together.”

  “You sure?”

  “Positive.”

  “If you need me, all you have to do is stick your head out the door and holler. I’ll be within shouting distance all day.”

  “Ty—”

  “And keep your phone with you. All the time.”

  “Yes, Daddy.”

  “You’ve got a smart mouth, Sophie London. I ought to take you over my knee.”

  For a split-second, her mind flashed to last night. Nathan’s fingers biting cruelly into her arm, his hand over her mouth.

  Then she refocused on the man in front of her. This was Ty. A man good to the bone who would never in a million years hurt her. On purpose. But he had the power to break her heart.

  “Sophie?” Ty narrowed his eyes. “Where’d you go?”

  She shook her head. “Woolgathering. Sorry.”

  He cleared his throat. “Guess you’re entitled, all things considered. But it’s important you listen to me about this. I couldn’t stand it if anything happened to you.”

  Contrite, she apologized. “I’ll behave. Promise.”

  Reaching for his coat, he said, “You know, there are no little ones here now. We’ve got some time to misbehave—in private.” Th
e heat of his gaze nearly branded her.

  “Ty—”

  He pushed his arms into his jacket. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. You need some time. I got that.” One last, quick kiss and he headed out the door.

  She took a deep breath. When Ty and the kids were here, the place was a beehive of activity. Now, all alone, the rooms with their functional and uncluttered décor actually set her mind free.

  She lit the tree and enjoyed the play of lights off the decorations they’d hung. Then, with Christmas music in the background and sunlight pouring through the windows, she settled in at the kitchen table, both Trouble and Lilybelle at her feet in an uneasy truce, and lost herself in her designs.

  It surprised her she was able to focus after last night, but Ty’s house exuded an air of serenity. She actually managed to lose herself in her work.

  Sometime later, the front door opened, and for one awful second, she panicked. Nathan.

  “Tink? It’s me.”

  Her heart settled down to a near-manic pace.

  “Hate to bother you, but my stomach’s thinking somebody slit my throat. Time to grab some lunch. I considered eating with the guys, but, well, I wanted to check on you. Besides, you’re a whole lot better looking than Cook.”

  She took a peek at the still-crooked wall clock. Ten after one. How had that happened?

  “I’m in the kitchen,” she called, saving her work as she did.

  “Fixing food?”

  She laughed. “Hardly. I totally lost track of time.”

  He’d left his boots on the porch and padded into the room in stocking feet. He smelled of the outside, of brisk, cold winds, and, not unpleasantly, of horses.

  Leaning down, his mouth moved close to hers. “How ’bout an appetizer?”

  When their lips touched, she reached up, put her hand at the back of his head, and pulled him closer. One kiss led to another and another.

  “I need you,” he whispered.

  “Oh, Ty. Yes.”

  With a growl, he slid his arms behind her knees and picked her up. His lips never leaving hers, he carried her up the stairs and into his room. He laid her down on the bed, stretching out beside her.

  Slowly, he undressed her, exploring, tasting, worshipping as he went until she was nearly delirious.

  “Your turn,” she said, working on his buttons.

  When they came together, the world stood still. It was only the two of them. Nothing else. No one else.

  “Oh, Sophie, the more I have, the more I want.”

  Pensive, she ran a fingertip over his shoulder blade. She’d fallen off the wagon. Again. Right now it was awfully hard to be sorry about it.

  “Want to go for a double feature?”

  Laughing, she shoved at him. “You need to get back to work, and so do I.” She sent him a searching look. “Won’t your guys be wondering why lunch took so long?”

  “Nah. I told them I was famished.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “For you.”

  “You did not.”

  Those dark gray eyes grew solemn. “No. But I am.”

  His kiss this time was passionate but without the heated rush. His hands moved over her. “I’ve never felt like this. Never.”

  Half an hour later, he rolled out of bed and offered her a hand. “How about I fix us sandwiches for lunch? Maybe a few chips? I might even have a couple of Dottie’s cookies stashed away where the boys can’t find them.”

  “Sounds good, but only if you let me help.”

  “Well, then, let’s get going. Day’s wasting, woman.”

  She slanted him a look. “Really? You didn’t seem to be in much of a hurry a few minutes ago.”

  “Priorities tend to slide around. Gotta take care of first things first.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.” He laughed and took her hand. They walked downstairs to the kitchen. Together.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  When the kids tore through the door at four, Sophie closed her laptop. There’d be no more work today. She and Ty’d had a slight tussle about the kids before he’d gone back out that afternoon. He’d planned to have Haley watch them after his parents brought them home. That made absolutely no sense when she was right here.

  She could handle three little kids. Couldn’t she? Her pulse raced.

  Ty’s mom followed the boys in and helped with the unbundling, then sent them to the mudroom with their outerwear. Sophie forced herself not to squirm as Mrs. Rawlins turned her attention on her, searched her face, took in the bruising.

  “Are you okay, sweetie?”

  “I am. Yes. Thanks to your son and Brawley.”

  “They’re good boys, both of them. If you need anything, will you call me?”

  “I will. Thank you.”

  Ty’s mom wrapped her in a quick, hard hug, then stepped away, giving her grandsons the eye. “You boys behave yourselves.”

  “We will, Grandma,” came a trio of voices.

  And then Mrs. Rawlins was gone, and Sophie found herself alone with three energetic four-year-olds. What had she gotten herself into?

  While they bounced on the sofa, the boys gave her a running commentary on the entire day’s events before deciding it was snack time.

  Wandering into the kitchen, she dug out mini-yogurts and poured three glasses of milk, then stood back and watched while they devoured both. Afterward, the four of them put together a haphazard meal. None of the boys seemed to be too picky. They finally settled on sloppy Joes and a bag of tater-tots she found in the freezer.

  Sophie insisted on a salad to go with it, though, so the boys sat on high stools and watched her slice and chop. They did the tossing—which meant cleaning up the floor when they finished. Although, truthfully, Trouble took care of most of the spillage.

  Lilybelle, who’d run upstairs to cower under the bed again when the boys came home, stayed there despite their attempts to draw her out. The pup somehow managed to be in ten places at once, always underfoot. Every time Sophie made to scold him, he’d look at her with those big sad eyes, and she’d cave.

  When she saw him start to squat, though, she said, “Jesse, take Trouble outside. Quick.”

  “Come here, Trouble.”

  The dog darted out when Jesse opened the back door, averting another cleanup.

  Not wanting to be left out on an opportunity for a good romp, Josh hollered, “Wait for me.”

  “Me, too,” Jonah yelled.

  Catching the door before it closed, they followed their brother and Trouble outside.

  Slumped in a chair, surveying the damage they’d done in such a short time, Sophie wholeheartedly applauded their decision.

  Ty walked in and found her there.

  “Tough day at the office?” he drawled.

  “You’d better believe it.”

  He pulled her up, drew her in, and kissed her.

  “Mmm.” She licked her lips. “I’m feeling much better already.”

  He nodded toward the backyard. “The hooligans out there?”

  “Every one of them. Two and four-legged. Except Lilybelle. She’s still in cowering mode.”

  Ty was the glue that held everything together. Once he came on scene, things evened out and some semblance of order returned.

  Fed, played with, bathed, and pajamaed, the boys finally slowed down enough for the Sandman to catch them. By eight, they were down for the count.

  And thank God for that, Sophie thought. These boys of Ty’s were a miracle—but an exhausting one. She smiled.

  “What?” Ty knelt down to light the fire.

  “I know I sound like a broken record, but I honestly don’t know how you manage all this. The house, the ranch, the boys.”

  “You kind of grow into it. And Haley helps. Besides riding herd on the boys once in a while, she comes in every week and digs us out, changes the bed linens, and pops a couple casseroles in the freezer. Mom and Babs take pity on us, too, and send over dishes occasionally.”

  He stood. “Want a glass of
wine?”

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  “Sophie—” He threaded his fingers in her hair.

  She gave her head an almost imperceptible shake. “Let’s not discuss anything serious. Not right now.” She shivered.

  “Cold?”

  “A little.”

  “Instead of running upstairs for that ugly Cubs sweatshirt, why don’t you dig in the closet there by the door? Should be something you can slip into to keep warm.”

  “You don’t really hate my sweatshirt.”

  “Oh, yeah, I do.”

  “Sheesh. Some people have no taste whatsoever.” Sophie opened the closet and rummaged around for something that would work. Tucked back in the corner, half-hidden under a blanket, she spotted a pile of gifts. “What’s all this?”

  Ty moved behind her, two glasses of wine in his hands. “Santa’s gifts for the kids. Guess I need to move them to a better hiding spot. One of the boys is bound to find them there.”

  Perplexed, she stared at them. “What did you do to them?”

  “What do you mean? I wrapped them.”

  She laughed. “No. You did not wrap these, Ty. You stapled them into bags.”

  “Same thing. What’s the difference?”

  “What’s the difference? Paper would be nice. Held together with tape, maybe? Some ribbon and bows.” She held up a bag with Santa and Rudolph flying through the night sky. “The boys expect beautiful gifts from this guy.”

  “Jeez, Sophie. They know Santa and his elves can’t wrap their way out of a paper bag.”

  She raised her brows.

  “They’re happy with stapled gift bags. They’re used to it. Besides, it’s a whole heck of a lot easier.”

  “Really?”

  “Look, I can’t wrap fancy little packages.”

  “I can. Let me rewrap them.”

  “Tink, they’re good. The kids will be fine with them the way they are. It’ll only take them thirty seconds max per package to tear them to shreds anyway.”

  “I don’t care. When they’re under the tree, they should look nice.”

  “Oh, for—”

  “No, let me do this for them. Please. I’ll run into town for some paper.” Reaching for her purse, she stopped. “Is Sadler’s still open, do you think?”