by Jane Porter
She took off one dangly sparkly earring and then the other. Barefoot, she walked around the house, the satin fabric of her gown sliding across her legs as she moved around the house, plugging in the tiny tabletop tree she’d placed on an end table in the living room, and then turning on music, letting the old-fashioned Christmas carols fill the house with sound.
She wasn’t going to think of Rory.
She wasn’t going to be sad.
Yes, he’d sent that text during the auction—he was thinking of her—but if he was really thinking of her, he wouldn’t be sending texts, he’d be there.
If he really cared, he wouldn’t have blown her off tonight.
If he really cared—
She broke off, hot tears stinging her eyes; not wanting to think about him tonight because it’d just make her sad and she didn’t want to be sad on such a spectacular evening. Her tree had been magnificent, drawing lots of attention. She’d been so gratified by everyone’s response, and even more pleased by the money her tree had raised. The bidding had been fierce. She’d already been asked to participate in the tree auction next year, too, and a dozen others had asked her for business cards, wanting to know more about her business. If people didn’t know about The Montana Rose before, they did now.
Rory arrived at Sadie’s house on Chance Avenue at eleven thirty. Fresh snow covered the roof and sidewalk, and a light snow continued to fall.
As he parked his truck, he saw a shadow pass the living room window and lights come on, the snug living room glowing red, green, blue, and gold.
Standing on the sidewalk in front of her house he flashed back to the past, but this time it wasn’t McKenna he saw running up the front walk. Instead he saw a little girl with bright copper hair waiting on the front porch for her guests to arrive. He imagined how excited she was to have everyone coming. Thirteen was a big deal. Sadie would have felt so grown up. She’d be feeling special and beautiful... finally a teenager.
A hard knot formed in his gut, the knot similar to the lump in his throat as he realized that her special night was ruined, too, and she’d done nothing wrong, but of course she’d felt guilty, and responsible, because that was what people did. They blamed themselves for being mortal, blamed themselves for not being God.
There was nothing she could have done.
Nothing at all.
The truth was, there was nothing any of them could have done about that night. That’s why it was a tragedy.
Drawing a breath Rory headed up the walk and rang the doorbell.
Sadie knew it was him even before she’d peeked through the peephole, and her heart beat double-time when she saw his hat on the other side of the door, and his face in profile.
She opened the door, pulse thudding, breath catching, afraid of what he was here to say, but more afraid of not listening. Despite everything, she felt connected to him. Despite everything, he was still the one for her.
But did he feel the same way? Had he changed his mind?
“Hi,” she whispered.
His gaze slid over her, from her carefully styled hair, down her slim-fitting dress to her bare feet below.
“You look beautiful.”
“You should have seen the earrings. They were something else.”
“I screwed up, angel. I’m sorry.”
Her lips parted, his apology catching her off guard. “It’s—” She stropped, swallowed, eyes stinging. “You—” She stopped again, and then she lifted her chin and looked him in the eye. “You hurt me. Badly.”
“I was wrong.”
“It took you days to reach out to me. Five days.”
“Way too long.”
“You should have said something sooner.”
“I should have apologized as soon as I understood why I was upset. I’m sorry. I’ll do better. I promise.”
“Come in. It’s freezing out there.”
He stepped inside, snowflakes clinging to his hat and coat. “I tried to make it tonight,” he said. “They closed the interstate at Billings.”
“You shouldn’t have tried driving tonight—”
“I wanted to be with you.”
“Then you should have been here this morning. Better yet, you shouldn’t have left at all.”
“I agree.”
He just stood there looking lost in her entry and it made her heart feel funny. “Give me your coat.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.” She hung up his winter coat in her closet and watched as he took off his hat, placing it on her small hall table.
“How long did it take you to get back?” she asked.
“I left Clark around four.”
She looked at the clock on the living room mantel. It was nearly midnight now. “You’ve been driving that entire time?”
He nodded.
“You must be exhausted.”
“It’s nothing.”
And yet she could tell from his face, and the white lines at his eyes and the deep grooves at his mouth that it was something. “Are you hungry?”
“I’m fine. Really. Don’t worry about me.”
“Something’s going on, though. I can see it in your face.”
“I’m mad,” he said shortly. “Mad at myself. I don’t want to lose you, darlin’. I can’t lose you. I love you.”
“You can’t, not if you think I’m demented—”
“I never said you were demented. I said I’d met women who didn’t want a healthy man, but I didn’t mean it about you.”
“Why did you say it then?”
“I was angry, and was caught off guard, so I do what a man like me does when things feel out of control. I fight. I defend myself. And that’s what I did.” He shook his head. “I’m not proud of it, Sadie. I don’t feel good about any of this. And it’s not an excuse, but the reason I was so... off guard... was because this was about the ranch, and what happened that night. I normally don’t lose it like that. This just happened to be where I was particularly... weak.”
She was tired of all the words. Truthfully, she wasn’t angry anymore and she didn’t want to talk. She just wanted him to hug her, and hold her, and make her feel safe again. “I’m sorry, too. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you who I was earlier. I wasn’t sure how to work it into the conversation... it always felt weird and awkward trying to say that it was my house you dropped McKenna off at, because it felt like I was making the... thing... about me, when it wasn’t about me at all.”
“And yet it was about you. It was your night, and your night was hijacked about something horrible.”
Tears filled her eyes and her lower lip trembled. “Let’s not talk about it anymore.”
“No, let’s. Because this has been something between us for all these years, and it’s not necessarily an awful thing. It ties us together.”
“Then I need something warmer to wear and a cup of tea.”
“I’ll put the water on. You go change.”
She met him in the kitchen just a few minutes later, grateful to be out of her slinky gown and into warm pajamas topped with a fleecy sweatshirt. The kettle was coming to a boil as she entered and she felt a little pang as she saw he’d found her Christmas mugs and had them out on the counter with a teabag in each.
“Look at you,” she said.
“I have my uses,” he answered, filling the cups with hot water and then carrying them to the small kitchen table.
She sat down and pulled her cup closer and felt another pang as she realized he’d chosen mint tea. Her favorite tea for evenings. Her eyes burned all over again and her heart felt impossibly tender. “We’re going to be okay, right?”
“You and me?” he clarified, pulling out the chair opposite hers and sitting down. “Yeah. We are, babe.”
“Then why do we have to talk about the past?”
“Because the past is a big part of us, and if we want a future, I think we’ve got to clear up some of the confusion, and set the record straight, once and for all.”
“I don’t eve
n know where to start.”
“Start with your party. Tell me about it.”
Sadie slowly exhaled, trying to find the words, wanting to get it right. “It was a big deal for me. It was the biggest night of my life. I know that might sound silly, but I’d never had a sleepover, and just days before it happened it looked like no one was coming and then McKenna’s cheer competition got changed and she called to say she could come, and then suddenly all the other girls were coming, too.” She nodded, eyes scratchy. “You have no idea how excited I was that McKenna could come. She was so popular and yet she was also really kind to me. No one popular had ever been that nice.”
“Don’t say that.”
“But it’s true.” She turned her cup a little, positioning the handle close to her hand. “You don’t know how things like that can make a difference. My mom wasn’t a mom that played bridge or bunco. She didn’t get her hair professionally done. She didn’t wear stylish clothes. She was a maid. She scrubbed toilets for the families that could afford to hire help, and families that could afford help didn’t want their daughters hanging out here, on Chance Avenue, and I certainly wasn’t going to be invited to their big nice house. So having a party, and an opportunity to show people who I was, was huge.”
He said nothing. His head was down, his gaze focused on the steam rising from his cup but she could tell he was listening intently.
Heart pounding, Sadie forced herself to continue. “I was standing on the front porch when you dropped her off, and then I watched you pull away.”
“You remember that day?”
“I remember every little detail.” She struggled to smile but failed. “I remember her arriving with her sleeping bag and the present. I remember you leaving, and how you accelerated fast. Your window was down and your music was loud and you looked all golden from the sunlight.” She took a shuddering breath as her throat began to seal closed. “And then I remember the sheriffs coming and collecting McKenna to take to the hospital.”
Still he said nothing.
She reached up and wiped away a tear, and then another. “And maybe I could have put it in the past, but every year on my birthday I think of your family, and I think of McKenna, and I think of you and how you looked that day, leaving here. You were so handsome and so... perfect... and I think about how just thirty minutes later you... found what you found and it breaks my heart. Still.” The tears were falling so fast she couldn’t stop them. “I hate what happened to you, Rory. I hate that you had to be the one to find them all—”
“But if it hadn’t been me, Quinn would have died.” Rory looked at her now, his eyes pink from tears he fought to suppress. “If I’d stopped anywhere, or hadn’t driven fast, he would have been gone before I got back. So I’m grateful it was me. It gave him a chance.”
And then suddenly his jaw tightened and tears welled in his eyes and he looked away, unable to let her see him cry.
“I have to tell you something, Sadie,” he said, his voice low and hoarse. “I’ve never told anyone this, but every night before I compete, I pray. For years I have prayed nightly for McKenna and Quinn. I have never asked God for anything for me, and then that night in Clovis, the night you were there this last August, I knew I was in trouble as Hammerfall threw his head back and I went flying forward. I knew in that split second it was bad. Really bad. And I prayed as I flew forward. I asked God to give me a chance.”
Sadie stared at him, her fist pressed to her mouth.
“Darlin’, I wouldn’t have prayed if you hadn’t been there. But for some reason I did that night, and I wasn’t asking Him to let me live. I was asking to live so I could have a chance with you. God heard me that night. He saved me, for you, my angel girl.”
She shook her head.
“Yes. He saved me so that I could make sure you have the best life possible, and I know we’ve had bumps, and I expect we’ll have more, because life isn’t always going to be smooth, but I’m here because I love you, and I want to be together with you. I want to marry you, and have those babies with you. I want to be your man... if you’d give me a chance.”
“You are the only one I’ve ever loved, Rory.”
He stood up and came around the table, drawing her to her feet, and then his arms were around her, and he was holding her, just as she’d needed to be held. “I love you, Sadie, and there is no doubt in my mind that we’re meant to be together, forever.”
She gave him a tremulous smile. “Forever, and a day.”
The corner of his mouth curved. “Marry me, darlin’. Let’s have those babies together.”
“Yes,” she whispered, “But...”
His eyebrow lifted. “But?”
“Maybe we should sit back down for this,” she murmured.
He sat down and then drew her onto his lap. “What’s happened?”
“Nothing. But, um... you know I want children.”
“Badly.”
“Yes, but I’ve been thinking, would it be okay if we didn’t rush into the baby thing? Would it be okay if you and I just had a year, or two, to ourselves?” She lightly stroked his brow and then the high hard line of his cheekbone. “I feel like I can’t ever get enough time with you and maybe it’s selfish, but I’d really like a year, or two, where it’s just us, before I have to start sharing you with anybody else.”
He looked into her eyes intently, and then slowly smiled. “I can do that.”
“You’re sure?”
“Absolutely.” He kissed her, and then again. “But we can practice the baby making, right? Just to be sure we know what we’re doing.”
She smiled against his mouth. “That’s probably wise.”
She could feel him smile back, and then she kissed him, loving him, so very, very much. “You feel like Christmas, Rory Douglas.”
“And you feel like hope.” He drew back to study her and smooth her long hair back from her face. “To think I found my miracle on Chance Avenue.”
“Where else would a miracle be?”
He grinned, fingertips tracing the curve of her cheek and the corner of her lips. “What would I do without you?”
“Good thing you don’t have to worry about it. I’ve been crazy about you since I was a girl. I think you’re pretty much stuck with me.”
“Perfect.”
“I love you, Rory.”
“And I love you, angel heart.”
Epilogue
Two years later
“Rory, babe, you can’t keep buying my tree at the auction,” Sadie said, part exasperated, part amused, as they stood on the front porch watching the delivery truck try to position itself near their driveway on Bramble. Normally it wouldn’t be a problem but there had been a massive snowstorm two days before and the roads were still lined with huge piles cleared by the snow plow.
“Why not? I love your trees. I want your trees, especially after I see all the work you put into them,” he answered, shifting the nine-month-old in his arms, trying to keep the baby from wiggling out of the blanket he’d thrown around him. “You want Mama’s tree here, too, don’t you, bud?” he added to the baby.
“Yes, to create as much havoc as possible.” She laughed, leaning toward her guys, and giving Rory a kiss, and then Kelly, and just like that, the babe inside her gave a lusty kick. She put a hand to her round belly, and patted it. “This one is dying to get in on the action.”
“Kicking again?” Rory asked, looking inordinately pleased.
“You’re smiling because it’s not your ribs he’s kicking—”
“You keep saying he, darlin’. Do you know something you’re not telling me?”
“No. But I can’t keep calling the new baby ‘it.’ Makes me feel like I’m carrying an alien, instead of an angel.”
Rory laughed, the warm, rich sound delighting Sadie as always. “I better go help that poor guy if we want to get your tree in the house in one piece.”
“And we’re going to go inside where it’s warm.”
Rory kissed
her and handed over Kelly and she went into the house to watch from the large living room window, excited to be celebrating Christmas in their lovely home for the second year.
The past two years had been the best, happiest, most wonderful years. They’d also been incredibly busy. After a Christmas wedding two years ago, they’d spent several months traveling, visiting Hawaii, Fiji, then Australia where they saw some of Rory’s bull rider friends, before returning to Marietta to look for a new place. They purchased an older house on Bramble in need of work. It wasn’t grand, but with the right love, it could be a beautiful home, and while Rory tackled the structural issues with contractors, Sadie tackled the interior. It took months to get it ready, and they moved in just in time for their first Thanksgiving.
It must have been somewhere between Thanksgiving and Christmas they conceived Kelly, and now, there was another little Douglas on the way, and Sadie felt beyond blessed.
Kelly suddenly spotted Rory coming up the walkway with the tree, and he squealed with delight.
Sadie laughed at his exuberance. “You do love your Da-da,” she said, kissing his still very bald head. The family was taking bets on his hair color—if and when it finally grew in. McKenna said Kelly would be a blond like Rory. Rory thought his firstborn would be red like his mom and aunt McKenna. And Sadie didn’t care. She was actually hoping it didn’t grow in too fast because a baby’s bald head demanded endless kisses.
Kelly looked up at her, and laughing, tried to squeeze his hand into her mouth. “No.”
He laughed harder, and tried again.
“You’re a very persistent Douglas,” she said with mock severity, because she loved that trait about him.
In fact, she loved everything about her beautiful, joyful life with Rory. It was so hard to believe that just two years ago she’d given Rory up, and yet here they were, in their own comfortable, warm home on lovely Bramble, with a healthy son, and another baby on the way, due to arrive late January, provided this one stayed put full-term.
The smell of fragrant pine, and the swish of branches and the clink and tinkle of ornaments heralded the arrival of the tree into the house. Inexplicably, tears filled Sadie’s eyes.
