Nearest Thing to Heaven (Maverick Junction)
Page 29
As they hooted and hollered, he said, “Merry Christmas, guys!”
“Merry Christmas, Daddy,” they echoed.
Trouble scrambled into the room and leaped onto the bed. When his rough pink tongue slurped the side of Ty’s face, he pushed him away, wiping the back of his hand over his cheek. “Ugh. Off me, you mangy mutt.”
“That’s not a mangy mutt,” Jesse said. “That’s Trouble.”
Ty made a show of squinting at the pup, now licking Josh. “You’re right. It is.” He sat, bringing the boys upright with him. “You munchkins ready to see what Santa brought?”
“Yeah.” They tumbled off the bed and raced for the door, Josh bouncing off the jamb when the three of them didn’t all fit at the same time.
Ty waited for the tears, but they didn’t come. Well, what do you know?
He’d plugged the tree in before he’d headed upstairs to bed last night—rather this morning—right after he’d forced himself to eat the cookies and drink the milk the boys insisted on leaving for Santa. He grinned. Tough job, but somebody had to do it. He sure was glad they’d decided on Oreos.
Ty didn’t consider himself a romantic, but the tree, the room, the pile of cheerfully wrapped presents, all looked magical in the early-morning light.
The boys stopped in their tracks at the base of the stairs. The expressions on their faces said it all. Oh, to be a four-year-old on Christmas morning again.
His thoughts turned to Sophie. She’d insisted the gifts themselves needed to be beautiful, and she’d been right. It did matter. And it mattered that his boys meant enough to her to take the time to help make this morning special. More than anything, he wanted her here beside him to share this moment.
In a flash, awe gave way to the need for gratification. The boys made a mad dash for the tree and tore into the treasure trove like a wrecking ball on an old house. The three made short work of the wrappings, their shouts and screams of joy escalating with each scrap that hit the floor.
Buried at the back of the tree, they discovered the gifts Sophie’d placed there before she’d left.
“She got something for all of us, Daddy.”
“Yes, she did.” A knot formed in his stomach.
They unwrapped her presents and hung the Santa Claus fish ornaments she’d given them on the tree. Jesse added the one that looked like Trouble, then Ty hung the Wurlitzer jukebox decorated with Christmas greenery she’d chosen for him, remembering how good she’d felt in his arms dancing to the one at Bubba’s.
Josh turned to him, the small art kit from Sophie in hand. “Why didn’t she stay, Daddy? Is she mad at us?”
The lump in Ty’s throat made it damn hard to speak. He swallowed, trying to come up with an answer. “No, honey, she’s not mad at you.” She’s mad at me. “She had work to do. It was time for her to go home.”
“Is she gonna come back?” Jesse asked.
“I don’t think so.”
“She could live with us,” Jonah, ever the compromiser, suggested.
“Yeah,” Josh agreed. “We can take our toys out of the extra bedroom. We don’t need a playroom, do we?” He looked at his brothers.
They shook their heads.
“Call her, Daddy,” Jesse insisted, toying with the hem of his pajama top.
God, these kids were breaking his heart. “Honey, I can’t do that.”
“Why?” Josh’s bottom trembled.
“Because,” Ty said, lifting the boy off his feet, “it’s Christmas. We’ve got places to go. Grandma and Grandpa Rawlins expect us for lunch. Then we have to head over to Gram and Papa Taylor’s house.”
“Will they have presents for us?” Jesse’s eyes glinted.
“I bet they will.”
“Daddy?” Jonah tugged at Ty’s pant leg. “Aren’t you going to open your present?” He pointed at the sole wrapped gift, which leaned against the wall.
Ty hesitated.
“You have to open it, Daddy,” Jesse said. “We want to see. It’s from Sophie.”
“You think so?”
Josh sighed. “Yes, ’cause she wrapped hers in special paper.” His tone implied he really shouldn’t have to be telling his father this as he held a shred of his up to the present. “They match. So it has to be from Sophie.”
“By gosh, you’re right.” He grinned. Somewhere she’d managed to find Christmas paper with a tiny Tinker Bell flying around a decorated tree.
How could she have left without saying good-bye? Without giving him a chance to beg her forgiveness.
Josh tugged on the other leg of his jeans. “Come on, Daddy. Hurry up. What’s in it?”
“I don’t know. Let’s see.” He ran a finger beneath the fold on the paper and peeled it back. His heart staggered.
She’d caught him and the boys fast asleep on the sofa. In an unguarded moment, all of them relaxed. Even Trouble was catching a few z’s.
His family.
And then he spotted the tiny fairy curled up asleep on Trouble’s ear. His heart did a fast handstand before slipping back into place. He wasn’t sure his life ever would.
*
When he and the boys hit his parents’ home, the place turned into a madhouse of noise and activity. The boys practically crawled under the tree, shaking gifts and trying to guess what was in them. Football blared over the living room TV, the volume way too loud in order to accommodate his father’s hearing.
His dad raised the beer he held. “Merry Christmas, Ty.” He turned to the boys. “Santa make it to you hoodlums?”
“Uh-huh,” Jesse answered.
The other two joined in to tell him what Santa had brought, then Jesse and Josh turned their attention back to the new packages.
Jonah crawled out from under the huge blue spruce and headed to the train set up on a table in the corner. Ty grinned. Boy after his own heart. He and his dad had put that together every Christmas. This year had been no exception. Amazing the thing still ran. But things used to be made to last.
Ty placed the bags of gifts they’d brought under the tree.
“Why don’t you boys unload those?”
“Okay, Daddy.”
His mother stuck her head around the kitchen doorway. “There you are. Merry Christmas, honey.”
Ty wrapped her in a hug and kissed her cheek. “I smelled your prime rib halfway down the drive. I’m starving.”
“It’s almost ready to come out.” She turned to her husband. “Wyatt, don’t just sit there. Get the boy a drink.”
“He’s got two feet,” Wyatt groused.
“I can get it, Mom.” Ty homed in on the fridge.
“I’ll take another while you’re there,” his dad called.
“Men,” his mother grumbled under her breath.
“Ouch,” Ty said. “I fall in that category, too.”
“That’s right. You do.”
Puzzled, he turned to a plate on the counter, grabbed a handful of olives, and popped them into his mouth.
“What’d I do?”
“You have to ask?”
“Obviously.” He flipped the tops off a couple longnecks.
“You were supposed to bring Sophie with you.”
“How can I do that? She’s in Chicago.”
“Exactly.” At the sink, his mother didn’t even turn around. “You screwed up, son of mine.”
“I—” Ty closed his mouth. What could he say? He had screwed up.
“Nothing to say for yourself?”
“Not at this moment.” Beers in hand, he moved into the living room, far safer territory.
Fifteen minutes later, drying her hands on a tea towel, his mother walked into that neutral zone. “Wyatt, why don’t you turn that off—or at least down enough that the rest of us can hear ourselves think?”
Reluctantly, he picked up the remote and muted the sound.
Hands on her still-trim hips, Sadie said, “So, what do you say, kids? Want to open those packages before we eat?”
Enthusiastic hoots
and hollers answered her.
“You’re a smart woman, Mom. This way, the kids might actually sit down and eat when it’s time.”
“Grandmas are wise women.” She smiled. “Boys, why don’t you play Santa and distribute the gifts?”
“Okay, Grandma.”
Ty sat in a rocker by the tree and read the tags for the kids.
The noise level rose considerably as kids and adults alike tore wrappings and exclaimed over gifts. Ty leaned back in his chair and watched the boys, wearing their new Dallas Cowboy helmets, race cars over the floor, the furniture, and each other.
It was a good day. He had a tremendous family, and he should be happy. One key element was missing, though. And he didn’t know what to do about it.
Didn’t know there was anything he could do.
His mom put an end to his reverie. “Come lift the casseroles out of the oven, Ty.”
Within ten minutes, hands were washed and everyone seated at the table. Heads bowed as his dad said grace. Food was passed, plates filled, and Christmas dinner got under way.
His mom had set up a card table for the boys. It kept them close and a part of things but gave the adults a chance to talk.
“You look like you could use some of this.” His dad held out a bottle of wine.
“Could I ever. It’s been a long day already.”
Wyatt leaned over and put a hand on Ty’s shoulder. “Son, I know I’ve said this before, but it bears repeating. You’re doing one hell of a job with these boys. Your mother and I are proud of you.”
“Thanks, Dad.” He helped himself to a tamale, a slice of prime rib, and some sweet potato casserole. After a couple bites, though, he pushed the food around his plate.
His mother added several spoons of cornbread dressing to his mix. “You’re not eating. You need to go see her.”
“What?”
“Sophie made you happy again. She made you whole. You can’t let her walk away without pleading your case.”
“Mom, we’re not what she wants.”
“Are you sure of that?”
He raised his eyes to hers. “I’m not sure of anything anymore.”
“There’s only way to find out, son,” his dad added. “Talk to the girl.”
“Yeah, Daddy. Talk to the girl,” Jonah piped up. Then he turned in his chair to face his grandfather. “Who’s the girl, Grandpa?”
The adults’ eyes met, and they started to laugh. Jonah joined in.
“Sophie, honey,” his mom told Jonah. “Your daddy’s going to take a trip.”
“Where?”
“To Chicago. He’s going to go talk to Sophie.”
“Yay.” All three boys, milk ringing their mouths, clapped their hands.
“Can we go, too?” Jesse asked.
“No, you’re coming to stay with Grandpa and me for a few days,” Ty’s mom said.
The boys bounced another round of cheers off the walls.
“Hey,” Ty said. “Don’t you think I should have some say in this? That maybe you should consult me first?”
His mother stared at a spot on the far wall as though giving his question some thought, then simply said, “No.”
“Mom, I’m not doing this.” He kept his voice low.
“Yes, you are. I’m not having you mope around here like some lovesick calf.”
“I’m not. Besides, what if she says no? What if she really, truly doesn’t want us? This.” He waved a hand to indicate the room, his family.
“Then she’s not who I think she is…and you’re better off without her.” His mother pushed back her chair. “Who wants some Texas pecan pie?”
*
Ty thought the day would never end. After they totally stuffed themselves, they hung around his folks’ for a while. Josh fell asleep, but Jonah and Jesse didn’t stop for a minute.
After Josh woke, they loaded their haul in the car along with more leftovers than they could possibly eat and made their pilgrimage to Julia’s folks. Matt and Babs and their kids were already there. More gifts, more food, more holiday cheer.
He wanted to gag the next person who wished him a Merry Christmas, but the kids had an incredible day. On the way home, they chatted nonstop about all their new toys.
“Can we play with our helicopters when we get home, Daddy?” Josh asked.
Ty rubbed his tired eyes. “It’s pretty close to bedtime, bud.” Stars were springing to life in the sky, and a crescent moon shed its paltry light.
“Ten minutes, Daddy?”
“We’ll see.”
“That means no.” Jesse pouted.
“No,” Ty said, his patience wearing thin. “It means we’ll see.”
By the time he pulled up in front of the house, though, the kids, worn out from a huge day, were sound asleep. One by one, he carried them in and put them to bed.
Thank God! Sprawled on the sofa, Ty stared across the living room at the water color he’d set on the fireplace mantel. Even in the dim light of the Christmas tree, he could make out the images Sophie’d captured on canvas. She’d nailed him and the kids and had even caught Trouble in a rare moment of stillness.
But it was that damn blond-haired, sleeping fairy clinging to Trouble’s ear with the I’ve-got-a-secret smile that drew his eye. She’d stolen his heart, then stowed it away on a plane headed for Chicago.
Lord, he missed her.
Closing his eyes, he tried to imagine what it would be like to never see her again, never kiss her again. A pretty dismal picture.
It had taken Annie leaving for Cash to realize how much he loved her. Ty wondered if he could he be as dense as that lunkhead. He’d never thought so, but the proof to the contrary was right in front on him, wasn’t it?
As much as he hated to admit it, his mother was right. Time to step up to the plate. Without giving himself any more time to think, he picked up the phone and called her. He’d take his mom and dad up on their offer.
*
Christmas night. A few stars winked in the sky, and the slice of moon played hide-and-seek with some rather sinister looking snow clouds. Curled up in the window seat, Sophie leaned back against her collection of silk cushions, resting her head against her hand. Lilybelle snuggled into the curve of her legs. The scrawny Charlie Brown Christmas tree Sophie had decorated reflected in the window, and Christmas music filled the silence.
Her door was locked up tight, a new dead bolt installed. Nathan had scared her. If he was, for whatever reason, released, the boys and Ty were far safer with her gone.
Ty’d refused to share and that had hurt, but, then, so had she. And her secret had put them all in danger. Far better for everyone with her here in Chicago. But the decision to leave had been the hardest of her life.
Choosing the brightest star, she wished with all her heart for Ty Rawlins’s happiness. Wished things had worked out differently between them.
But they hadn’t.
A cup of cocoa in her other hand, she stared down at the cold, deserted street. Everybody was home with family or sharing the holiday with friends. Yet here she was. Alone.
Her choice, she reminded herself. Dee had gone to her small hometown of Kane, Pennsylvania, to share the holiday with her parents. She’d invited Sophie to join her, but she’d bowed out. Her mom and dad had tried to talk her into flying to Boston to be with them. Again, she’d cried off, saying she was so behind in her work she couldn’t afford the time away.
An out-and-out lie.
She’d never worked so well in her life as she had in Maverick Junction. There at Dottie’s, her creative juices had flowed, and she’d tapped into them, finishing her spring line and getting a heck of a jump on summer.
But she had needed to stay home. Had needed this time alone to put her life in perspective. She’d failed miserably so far. The only thing she’d determined for sure? She’d fallen head over cowboy boots for Ty Rawlins.
All day long, she’d prayed he’d call, that he might miss her as much as she did him. She’d stu
ck to her phone like glue.
But he hadn’t phoned.
He didn’t care.
Even a pint of Ben & Jerry’s couldn’t cure this.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The plane circled O’Hare. A storm had dumped nearly a foot of snow on Chicago in the early-morning hours, stacking up traffic. Because of the lake-effect snow and winds, Ty had been delayed nearly two hours leaving Austin. He closed the book he’d been pretending to read and stared at the door of the storage bin across from him.
Was he doing the right thing, or would this trip move to the top of his blunder list? He’d toyed with the idea of waiting till the first. A new year. A new beginning. Added to that, the extra couple days would give Sophie a little more time to miss him.
At least, in his perfect-world scenario she would. But, then, it had been a long time since he’d believed in a perfect world. He missed Tink more than he’d imagined possible, and a perverse side of him hoped she was feeling every bit as wretched as he was.
When it came right down to the nitty-gritty, he hadn’t been able to wait for New Year’s Day. Once he’d made up his mind, three days was the best he could do. Scrambling to put together his plan, he’d leaned on a college friend for a favor. As the tires made contact with the tarmac, he sent another prayer Heavenward that Parker would come through.
That his plan would work.
Once they’d touched down and disembarked, people scrambled down the corridors, everyone in a hurry. Thank God he hadn’t checked a bag. The noise and the crowds made him long for the solitude of his ranch. He didn’t belong here.
Sophie did, though, and there was the rub. One of them, anyway. Could he convince her to give this up? He sure as hell hoped so.
Could he convince her to accept him and the boys? To take on the bunch of them? There was an even bigger challenge, one that had his nerves taut as strung fence wire.
Stepping outside to catch a taxi, the wind whipped at him and almost tore the door out of his hand. An ineffectual sun had made an appearance, but the cold chewed right through his clothes. He shivered and stomped his feet, zipped his jacket a little higher. That anybody would choose to live in the frigid North never failed to amaze him.