The Christmas He Loved Her

by Juliana Stone

  “An hour, boys,” Salvatore said, shaking his head. “That’s it. You’ve got one hour to convince him to leave, or you can all deal with my wife.”

  “Okay, Sal.”

  The deep, raspy voice had Jake turning real quick, though, and he attempted a smile, though he was pretty sure he’d failed by the look in his buddy’s eyes. “I didn’t expect to see your sorry ass until New Year’s Eve.”

  Cain Black strode over and clapped him on the shoulder before sliding into the seat beside him, while Mac grinned and grabbed the stool on his right.

  “Yeah, well, plans change, my friend.”

  No doubt Mac had had a part in that. Jesus. He wasn’t in the mood for an intervention.

  Jake glanced at Mac, who was smiling at the bartender, a brunette with big eyes and an even bigger grin and a chest that was well in proportion to both. “I’d watch your step, Mac. That’s Sal’s daughter, and she’s barely legal.”

  “You’re pulling my leg,” Mac said. “There is no way in hell that’s the little girl who used to—”

  “Hey Mackenzie, Merry Christmas.”

  “—sell Girl Scout cookies to my mom.” Mac groaned. “Shit, I feel old.”

  “Oh my God! Cain, will you let me take your picture?” Angie’s eyes looked as if they were going to pop out of her head when she spied the rocker. “Like one with me, please?”

  Cain took off his hat and shook out hair that was at least an inch longer than when Jake had last seen him. “Sure, darlin’. How about we get that done, and then you can bring Mac and me some JD on the rocks so that we can catch up with our friend Jake, here.”

  Angie squealed and practically jumped over the bar, her cell phone out and the picture snapped in under thirty seconds. Sal grumbled from down the way but slid a bottle of Jack toward them. “Merry Christmas, boys, but remember…one hour.” He frowned. “And no funny stuff.” His eyes lingered on Jake for half a second longer, and then he disappeared into the kitchen.

  Cain slid back into his seat and poured out two generous glasses for Mac and himself before turning to Jake. “You look like shit, my friend.”

  Jake nodded. “Thanks for that, Hollywood.”

  Cain leaned onto the bar. “I’m not joking. You really look like shit.”

  Jake felt a spike of anger flush through him, but it left as quick as it came. He was just done. There was no way he was coming back from last night.

  “So, I take it Mac called you?”

  Cain nodded. “Yeah, he did.”

  Jake shook his head and glared at Mackenzie. “He shouldn’t have done that.”

  “I’m worried about you, dumbass.” Mac held his drink up as if for a toast and then tipped it back, not stopping until the glass was dry.

  Jake wished he could drink his pain away, but unlike Mackenzie, alcohol wasn’t always his answer. Jake glanced up and saw his reflection in the mirror behind the bar. He saw Cain on his left, while Mac stared back at him from his right. His friends. His brothers.

  Except that one was missing. One was never coming back.

  That heaviness inside him pressed against his chest something fierce. It hung on, leeching on to his soul and filling his heart with so much pain that he hung his head and gasped as he slid from his stool and took a few steps back.

  “I can’t do this,” he muttered.

  “Yeah, well, we don’t care.” Cain turned around and stretched out his long, jean-clad legs. “You gotta stop this, Jake. It happened over a year ago. You can’t stay in that place anymore. You need to move on.”

  Jake rolled his head and looked at his two oldest friends. He loved these guys. He’d do anything for them, and he knew the feeling was mutual. But they didn’t understand how fucked-up everything was.

  “You have no idea what the hell’s going on.”

  Cain took a good, long drink from his tumbler and then placed it on the bar. He folded his arms over his chest and nailed Jake with a look that told him Cain wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

  “Well, why don’t you enlighten me?”

  Something about his attitude pissed Jake off, and he squared his shoulders. “Mac didn’t fill you in?”

  Jake shot a look toward Mackenzie, but his friend met his glare dead-on and shook his head. “It’s not my story to tell.”

  “It’s not a pretty story,” Jake said roughly. “In fact, it’s damn scary.”

  “Since when do we care about that shit?” Cain asked. “You’re losing it. I can see it in your eyes. You’ve got that same look, just like you did the summer after Jesse died. There are a whole lot of people who are going to be hurt if you go off the grid again, you got that?”

  Cain’s voice rose a notch, but luckily no one in the bar was paying them any mind. Even Angie must have sensed that something heavy was going down, because she’d moved to the far side of the bar and was busy cleaning tables, though she threw the occasional look their way.

  “This is us,” Mackenzie said quietly. “We want to help.”

  Jake sighed and ran his hands across his temples. Christmas music played in the background, and he glanced to the side, watching an intoxicated couple practically making love on the dance floor while some rocker dude sang about his baby coming home for the holidays.

  He wasn’t sure how long he stared at them, but it was long enough for his vision to blur and for his heart to crack open as thoughts of Jesse and Raine converged into a chaotic mess.

  “I took everything from him,” he said so quietly he wasn’t sure Cain or Mac heard.

  “How can you take something from someone who’s dead?” Mac stood, his hands shoved into his pockets as he stared at Jake. “He’s dead. He’s not coming back, and it sucks and it’s fucking wrong. But you know what’s worse? Watching you disappear again, and letting something as good as Raine slip away because you feel guilty.”

  How could he make them understand?

  “I know about the baby,” Cain said quietly.

  His head shot up at that. “And you never told me?” He took a step toward Cain.

  “I had to respect Raine’s wishes. She wanted to tell you herself, but…”

  “But I was being an asshole and never gave her the chance.”

  “Yeah,” Cain replied.

  “I took everything from him,” Jake said and turned away, suddenly so raw inside he was afraid he’d break down. “Even the baby he wanted.”

  “Maybe that’s how you see things, Jake, but that’s not reality. I’m going to say some stuff now, some things that are going to piss you off—”

  Jake might have growled like an animal, because Mac reacted instantly.

  “It’s okay,” Mac said, rolling up his sleeves as he stepped between the two men. The guy was built and had obviously been hitting the gym hard. “I got your back, because no offense, Cain, Jake could kick your ass if he wanted to.”

  Cain ignored Mackenzie and nailed Jake with a look that promised the hard truth and maybe something else. Maybe redemption.

  “Jesse’s reality and the rest of the world’s weren’t exactly in line.”

  The anger Jake felt flashed hot and hard, but he kept his distance, ground his teeth together, and listened.

  “Raine shared a few things with Maggie and me, and I got a clearer picture of what was going on in Jesse’s head. And I think a clearer picture of what happened over there.” He paused. “Look, I don’t know the specifics of the day Jesse died. I don’t want to know, unless you need me to. But Jake, what I do know is that Jesse is gone and you can’t take away something from someone who’s no longer here. You just can’t.”

  “Cain…” Jake began.

  “Shut up, Edwards, I’m not done.” Cain got to his feet. “I think that you’re hiding behind what happened to Jesse, blaming yourself for not bringing him back alive, when we all know that’s a l
oad of crap. The guy was a highly trained soldier, just like you. Just like the rest of the guys in your unit. Life and death is part of that gig, and you either live with it or you go crazy.”

  Cain took a few steps until he was almost nose to nose with Jake. “You’re running scared, Jake, because everything you want is right in front of you and you’ve always been afraid to take it. You’re hiding behind your dead brother.”

  “That’s fucking bullshit.” Jake’s hands fisted at his sides, and it was all he could do to control his anger.

  “Is it?” Cain asked, taking a step back and reaching for his whiskey. He downed the glass and slammed it on the counter.

  “You’ve loved that girl for more years than I can remember. And from what little I can see, she’s crazy about you. So why is Raine”—he checked his watch—“on her way to St. Paul’s with my wife, on Christmas Eve, for Christ’s sake, while you’re sitting in the Coach House feeling sorry for yourself, or guilty, or whatever the fuck it is you’re feeling, about stuff that’s already over and done with? About things you can’t change?”

  A strangled sound escaped Jake’s throat, and Mackenzie moved in again, this time the lightness in his eyes long gone. “Keep it happy, boys.”

  Cain tugged his hat back on and waved good-bye to Sal.

  “Don’t step aside and play the good guy for a ghost. A ghost isn’t what Raine needs. You are.”

  And just like that, Cain was done. He tugged on his leather gloves and nodded to Mac. “You coming?”

  “That depends,” Mackenzie replied, turning to Jake. “You all right?”

  Jake nodded, unable to answer. His chest was still tight and his throat felt as if he’d swallowed a block of lead.

  Mackenzie patted him on the shoulder and moved aside as Cain stepped in again. The two men stared at each other long and hard, and when Cain put his hand on Jake’s shoulder, something inside Jake loosened. It broke free, and suddenly the tightness was gone.

  “You need to make peace with your brother and move on,” Cain said roughly. “We can’t lose you too.”

  Jake nodded.

  “Are we good?” Cain asked.

  “We’re good,” Jake answered haltingly and then whispered, “Thanks.”

  “You don’t need to thank me for pointing out the obvious. You just need to do the right thing. You need to choose life.”

  Cain glanced at the door. “You wanna come with us? I’m heading over to the church to meet up with Maggie and Michael, and they’re with Raine and her mother, and I’m pretty sure your parents are there too.”

  Jake shook his head, his mind reeling at the thought that maybe, just maybe, he could make things right.

  “Go ahead,” Jake said as he tossed some bills onto the counter. “I got something I have to do first.” He pulled out his cell and turned it on, wincing when he saw several calls from Raine, and heading out into the cold, he hit speed dial.

  ***

  The drive out to the cemetery didn’t take long at all. No one was on the roads, which was good, because they were on the treacherous side. With the cooler temps rolling in and a crisp breeze that sent snow flying, there were several spots where drifts had crossed the road.

  Jake pulled into the entrance, but with several feet of snow blocking his way, he knew he’d have to hoof it the rest of the way in.

  It was a clear evening, the kind where the sky is filled with black velvet and sharp, sparkling diamonds. He tugged on his collar as he glanced above him, and not for the first time, he felt small. Insignificant. He headed into the cemetery, his steps bringing him closer to the big oak tree that overlooked his family plot, there at row thirty-six. He had no trouble seeing, thanks to the stars and a cold December moon that hung low in the sky.

  He hadn’t been out here since the day they’d buried Jesse, and Jake was unprepared for the wash of emotion that rolled over him when he spied the grave.

  Snow dusted the top of the dark granite piece, but there were Christmas greens at the base and a candleholder that was nearly buried under the snow.

  He paused just in front and stared down, reading for the first time the words his parents had had inscribed into the granite.

  Jesse Edwards

  Son. Brother. Husband. Soldier. Never forgotten.

  There it was. Laid out nice and simple.

  The wind swooped down, ruffling the greens, and Jake shivered, whether from the cold or the onslaught of emotions he wasn’t sure. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and hunched his shoulders against the wind, his eyes riveted on his brother’s name.

  Jesse Edwards

  That feeling in his chest, the one that had been dogging him forever, it seemed, erupted and filled him with heat. And anger. And a vicious need to do something.

  He let the anger wash over him, wash through him, and began to pant as his vision blurred with something hot and wet. He scrubbed at his eyes and took a step forward.

  “You selfish bastard,” he shouted, his voice echoing into the darkness.

  Jake turned abruptly and began to pace the length of his brother’s grave. All of the blackness, the rage, the pain and anguish from that day filled his head and chest until he could barely breathe. Until he fell to his knees and leaned against the cold, hard granite.

  “How could you give up like that? What the hell happened to you?”

  But of course there were no answers. Nothing to make him feel better about any of the choices he’d made.

  Jake glanced around. There was nothing but death in this place.

  He thought of Raine. Of her warmth and smile. He thought of that night they’d been together, just weeks after Jesse’s funeral. Of the need they had to connect and to comfort and to…live.

  He thought of how he’d felt. As if he’d betrayed his brother. And of how he’d left soon after, leaving Raine alone to deal with the consequences.

  Cain was right. He had been hiding behind his brother’s death. Blaming himself for the tragic events on that day and using it as an excuse to avoid dealing with the fallout. To avoid taking what he wanted. What he’d always wanted. Raine.

  Slowly, Jake straightened, his fingers brushing away the snow from the top of the gravestone as he tried to sort out his thoughts.

  “I don’t know what was wrong with you, brother. Why weren’t you strong enough to live?” His voice broke. “Why didn’t you live for Raine…for me? Why the hell did you walk out onto that street? Why didn’t you fight for what you had?”

  Jake shuddered, staring down at the cold granite and the snow-covered earth that entombed his brother. Such rage welled up inside that for a moment he saw nothing. He kicked the candleholder and sent it flying into the darkness, his breaths coming fast and hard as his chest tightened.

  “I’m not sorry that I love her, dammit, I’m not. I’m not sorry that I’m here and you’re not, and that’s what’s killing me, Jesse. The guilt is killing me. I hate that you’re gone, but I don’t…I don’t regret Raine. I can’t. I love her.”

  Silence met his declaration, and as fast as his anger boiled inside him, it slipped away, leaving him empty.

  “I love you, Jesse, but I’m done with this. I can’t live with this guilt anymore. I came back and you didn’t, but it’s not my fault. It’s no one’s fault. It’s just what is.”

  He exhaled slowly. “I hope you’re at peace wherever the hell you are, and one day, brother, I’ll see you again, but for now…” He wiped his eyes and moved away. “For now, I’m going to live my life, and I’m going to be happy, and I…” He paused and took a step back.

  “I hope you’re okay with that.”

  Chapter 28

  St. Paul’s church was filled to the rafters. Literally. Every available seat had a body in it, including those in the loft above. The candles were lit, the nativity scene breathtaking, and the children’s portio
n of the event was just ending.

  Raine smiled as she spied Maggie’s son, Michael. Tucked near the back with his buddy Tommy, he was dressed as one of the shepherds, and while supposedly looking down in reverence at the baby Jesus, he was giggling behind his staff.

  “Oh my God, Michael is going to hear it when we get home,” Maggie whispered. “He’s lucky they let him participate, considering we arrived just a few hours ago, but I’m sure Mrs. Lancaster is regretting it.”

  Raine nodded, an automatic move, because her attention had already wandered. Again. She clutched her cell phone, thinking of the voice mail she’d retrieved just before the Christmas service had begun.

  “I love you and I’m coming for you.”

  Cain and Mackenzie had arrived just after Pastor Lancaster took to his pulpit, but almost immediately, Cain had been swept away by Mrs. Lancaster and had a guitar shoved into his hands. With Cain on stage and Mackenzie sitting with his mother, Raine had no idea if they’d even found Jake.

  The kids began to file out slowly, following her mother, Gloria, as she sang “Silent Night,” accompanied by the soft strains of Cain’s guitar. First the angels, then the wise men, a donkey, a camel, and three sheep waved good-bye.

  Raine wasn’t sure when the energy in the church changed—when the whispers began to overtake the singing. But the hair on the back of her neck stood on end, and for some reason her heart began to beat faster. Harder.

  As if it knew he was there.

  She sat on the end of the second pew from the front and glanced down at the cell in her hands, aware that everyone on the stage was staring down the aisle. Aware that her mother had stepped back from the spotlight and that Cain was strumming something altogether different than “Silent Night.”

  She swallowed, her eyes still lowered, and glanced to the side.

  She saw a pair of boots. Big boots. Big, leather, man boots. They were wet, and snow still clung to the tops of them along with bits of brown grass and dirt.