Harlequin Heartwarming December 2020 Box Set

by Cari Lynn Webb, Linda Warren, Mary Anne Wilson

  He yelled as loudly as he could, “Liberty! Pax!”

  The next moment, the dog was there, storming around from the back of the house. Jake barely missed being laid out in the snow again by yelling, “Stop! No, Pax, no!” Just a few feet before impact, the dog stopped, spun around and headed back the way he’d come. Jake followed him up and along the side of the house. As he rounded the corner at the back, he saw Liberty standing on the small stoop by the back door.

  Her jacket was gone, but her boots were on and her hair was free from the ponytail to fall around her shoulders. “Jake, what are you doing here?”

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE BACK OF the house was protected from the wind, and the snow was half as deep as it was elsewhere. Jake went closer to the stoop. “You’ve been gone for over four hours.”

  “Oh, gosh, I’m sorry,” she said, then backed up toward the open door. “Come on in. It’s freezing out there.”

  He was on the stoop in one stride and in the small mudroom with one more step. It was empty. Two more steps and he was in the tiny square kitchen with its small refrigerator, stove and cupboards lining the walls. After all the years since he’d walked into the cabin for the first time, he was struck by how it looked as if time had forgotten it. Nothing was changed.

  He turned and stepped into the living area that took up the rest of the front of the cabin. The potbelly stove was radiating heat, and Liberty was already sitting on a small sofa that still had the dustcover over it.

  “Look,” she said, obviously pleased with herself. “I got the stove to work, and you won’t believe it, but the electricity is still on.”

  He crossed a worn rug on plank flooring and sat down on the sofa as he undid his jacket and turned to look at Liberty. “What have you been doing?”

  She shrugged. “Enjoying this place. This is just a wonderful house. It’s tiny, but it’s lovely. I mean, the furniture is all here, and there are no mice or rats running around. The bed in the bedroom is beautiful, wrought iron with scrolling at the head and feet, and it almost takes up the whole room. I wouldn’t change a thing. It’s got everything you need. It’s compact and comfortable and sweet.”

  He would have never called a house “sweet” but if he had to, he guessed this cabin might be a contender. “For eclipse watching, we all staked out our viewing sites on the ranch, but Sarge and Maggie always came up here to watch the skies together.”

  Liberty seemed pleased by that information. “Oh, that’s romantic. Maybe they saw a Christmas Moon from the porch.”

  He couldn’t help smiling at that. “As I remember it, they did. Maggie was thrilled.” Funny he hadn’t remembered that until right then.

  “I wonder if Sarge had the idea of bringing a wife here sooner or later when he built it?”

  “I don’t know. He met Maggie just before he was deployed, and she was out of reach for him. She was the only daughter of a wealthy rancher near Jackson Hole. She was younger than him, too, so it was hands-off. But when he came back after his time in Vietnam, he bought this land. I think things changed for both of them around then.”

  “A soldier coming home to find the woman he’d probably fallen in love with at first sight before he was deployed.” Liberty sighed and hugged her arms around herself. “Boy, are you trying to make me cry?”

  “No,” he said, and hoped she was kidding. “So, you lit the stove?”

  She was distracted immediately. “I found wood in a covered box at the back of the house.” She looked over at Pax lying out in front of the stove, then back at him. “I know why Pax was at the trees when I found him. He was living here, well, not inside, but near the wood storage out back, which, by the way, is full.” She shrugged. “Anyway, there’s an opening in the stone foundation where he was staying. Can you imagine how cold that had to be?”

  Jake certainly could. “He’s a survivor for sure,” he said.

  “Yes, he is. Has anyone actually lived here in recent years?”

  “Yes, off and on. Friends, people who needed a place to stay. Sarge and Maggie had their breaks up here when they needed time away from the boys.”

  “How did they get up here? I mean, that walk is beautiful, but it’s uphill and not short or easy if you had to do it more than once a day.”

  “Sarge cut a road that goes east from here, then dips down to the county road near the blind curve. That was the original entrance for the ranch.”

  “Would it work for my Jeep?”

  “If you bladed it.”

  “Seth said that he’d like me here as much as possible during all the phases of the work when it really starts in the summer. I think staying up here would be close enough to the work without being buried in it. Plus, I’m even closer to the campsite locations and the original mess hall and bunkhouse that we’re going to repurpose. Do you think it would be okay if I stayed up here instead of at the house?”

  “Well, I don’t see why not, but what about Roger? How would he react to living in a four-hundred-square-foot house out here with no Wi-Fi or cell signal?”

  “Come on, Roger’s used to roughing it when he’s on-site. I think I could make it work,” she said but she didn’t sound totally convinced she could. “When he’s gone, I could stay here, and when he’s back, I could be in Seattle when I had to be.”

  “Don’t you have other clients besides Seth?”

  “I finished my last job just before I came here, and my boss agreed I’d be on this job exclusively until it’s complete, so that’s not a problem. Anyway, I’ll talk this over with Seth when I can. He understands about…things.”

  “You’re right,” Jake agreed instantly. It was her business to sort out. “Seth will understand. He knows you and Roger.”

  She turned and reached for her jacket. She looked back at Jake when she spoke again. “I’m going back to the house. Are you coming?”

  “I’ll shut down the stove, then I’ll come back,” he said.

  Pax was with Liberty as she went through the kitchen and walked out the back door. Jake stayed where he was to give her a head start so he wouldn’t say anything else about Roger on the way back that he’d regret. He had no right to question her relationship.

  He crossed the room to tamp down the stove, then he started back, taking his time and keeping his distance. When he arrived at the house, he took his time putting the tractor, which he’d left by the front door, away in the hay barn. Then headed up to the house. He hoped Liberty was working. He could lie down and try to shut off his thoughts for a while.

  He’d barely stepped into the entry when Pax ran out of the great room. The dog was going so fast, he almost skidded to a stop when he saw Jake. He had a candy cane in his mouth and Liberty was right behind him. She made a grab for Pax, but he gave her the slip and was a blur as he ran through the still-open front door and disappeared.

  Liberty frowned at Jake. “Why didn’t you stop him?”

  “I didn’t know I was supposed to.” He’d fallen into the middle of whatever had been happening and didn’t have a clue what the dog had done.

  She motioned to the door. “You need to go and get him.”

  “Me? Why? He’ll be back.”

  “Yeah, to steal more candy canes,” she said, and dropped down on the cowhide bench.

  “Stealing candy canes?”

  “He cleared more than a dozen candy canes off the bottom level of the tree while I was working in the office.” She took a deep breath then exhaled. “I was busy and he was with me, then he wasn’t with me for what turned out to be a long enough time for him to strip the lowest branches of the tree of candy canes. He was in the middle of stealing the next one when I spotted him.” She shook her head. “I never should have yelled at him or run toward him. I probably terrified him, and now he’s out there running scared. Candy canes have to at least make him sick. I don’t even know exactly how many he’s
eaten.”

  He crouched down in front of her. “Liberty, I’ve never heard of a dog overdosing on candy canes.”

  He could have kept his words to himself, because she didn’t acknowledge he’d even said them. “You have to find him, then we’ll go and look for a signal and call a vet.”

  “Liberty, we can’t. I cleared all the way to the boulders earlier, but the road is impassable.”

  “But what if he gets really sick?” She looked around Jake, then stood suddenly, almost bumping into him, but he took a step back. She pushed around him and opened the door. Pax was there. He usually dived into the house, but he just stood in the opening looking up at Liberty. The candy cane was gone. He had no idea what she was saying to the dog, but she ended up crouching to hug him.

  He went over to the door. “Let me close this.”

  Liberty stood and tugged Pax by his collar to get him out of the way. Then Jake turned, and Pax was all but glued to Liberty’s leg again. “Told you he’d be back, and he doesn’t look much worse for wear.”

  “Do you think he’ll be okay?”

  “Yes, I think he’ll be fine. He’s always with one of us, so we can keep an eye on him. Now, if you’re working in the office, I’ll watch him.”

  She stroked Pax’s head. “I guess that will have to do.”

  * * *

  LIBBY WAS GOING to redo the candy canes and make the bottom half of the tree a no-candy-cane zone. “I think I’ll keep his targets higher, then I’ll get to work.” She could tell Jake was tired, but he followed her into the great room and they started putting the candy canes higher up on the tree. When they finished, he settled in the chair positioned to half face the tree and half face the chair Libby sat down on. “I wish we had some milk. I’d make hot chocolate. That always feels so Christmassy.”

  “What’s with you and Christmas that it’s so important to you?”

  She hesitated. The story of her Christmas addiction was something she’d planned to share with Roger on their first Christmas together, a way to get closer so he understood her better. They hadn’t had last Christmas together, so she’d waited. The thing was, she thought she knew Roger well but lately was starting to wonder if that was true. She felt off, as if her thinking wasn’t right. When she’d put her engagement ring away in the desk earlier, she thought it was to keep it safe, but now she could admit to herself she’d been relieved not wearing it. As beautiful as it was, she never felt comfortable with its weight on her finger reminding her that she was going to change her life a lot in the next few months.

  Jake, on the other hand, knew her background now. He’d lived part of it, and she found herself thinking she might just tell him of her connection to Christmas. She loved the story herself. Perhaps later she’d tell him but not right then. “Maybe when we have some good hot chocolate, I’ll tell you my story about Christmas. But no milk and no marshmallows mean no hot chocolate.”

  “I didn’t even know people made hot chocolate with milk until I got here. The stuff I had was made with water, and I got used to it.”

  “Whoa, that’s sounds bad. But there’s cocoa powder and water, and if you like I can make you some while you keep an eye on Pax.”

  “Sure, if you want to.”

  She got up and headed to the kitchen. As she made the hot cocoa, she watched Jake in his chair, his eyes closed. Once she poured the thin-looking drink into two mugs, she went over to him. She nudged his foot with hers and his eyes flew open; then he exhaled. She held out a cup to him. “I hope this is what you remember.”

  He sat up straighter and took the offered drink, and she sat opposite him, cradling her own in her hands. She never took her eyes off Jake as he took a sip then rested his mug on his thigh. “It tastes just like I remember.”

  “Really?”

  He smiled. “Yes, really. Thank you.”

  She lifted her mug in a salute. “Here’s to hot chocolate made with water,” she said, and took her own sip.

  She froze for a second, spit what she had in her mouth back into the mug, then got up and headed into the kitchen. It was horrible, all thin and powdery tasting. She didn’t think even marshmallows could make it drinkable. She poured it out in the sink, rinsed her mouth with water, then went to the tree, got a candy cane and sat down facing Jake again.

  He was lucky he wasn’t laughing at her, but she could almost see him trying to control it. “That was horrible,” she said, making sure he saw her lips. “Just disgusting.”

  He shrugged, and the smile was close to showing up. “I had no idea you were going to make some for yourself. I thought you had coffee in your mug.”

  “If that’s what you remember and you like it, you’re very mistaken.” She made an exaggerated grimace. “It tastes like dishwater.”

  “Have you been drinking dishwater again?” he asked, and his smile finally showed up.

  She couldn’t help grinning herself. “It might be better than that stuff.” She held up the candy cane. “I need this to get the taste out of my mouth.” She bit a small piece off the end, then sighed. “Much better. A candy cane can cure a lot of things. By the way, Pax seems okay, doesn’t he?”

  “He looks pretty good,” he said, then shifted to stretch his feet out in front of him. She saw Jake hesitate, as if something had stopped his motions for second, then he set his mug on the floor by his chair before he settled. She wondered if it was his ears, but she wouldn’t ask. “What music’s playing?”

  “‘The Christmas Song.’ You know, chestnuts roasting and all that. It’s really nice. Oh, there’s still those two steaks for dinner, if you’d like?”

  “Thanks, but I’m not hungry. Make yourself something,” he said, and closed his eyes without asking her about Christmas again.

  Libby got up and as she passed Jake to go to the office, she looked down at him. She couldn’t imagine being in the system as long he had. It seemed certain that he’d never had a lot of what she’d received from the Connors. She just wished she could turn back time and give him that present. He deserved it.

  * * *

  JAKE WAS IN the old cabin. Music was playing from somewhere, a song he recognized. “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.” He heard it as if he could really hear, and Liberty was there, in his arms, her head resting on his chest as they moved together to the music. He could hear her singing along, her voice soft and honey smooth, and all he wanted to do was hold her like that forever.

  He woke with a start, still in the chair in the great room, no lights on except for those on the Christmas tree. No music, no Liberty singing, just noise and pressure in his ears, and Pax pawing at his leg. Jake groaned, hating the punch of his reality as it hit him again. “Okay, okay,” he muttered as he pushed himself upright in the chair. “Give me a minute.”

  The dream was gone. He got to his feet carefully but felt steady, and set the mug down on the hearth. When he turned to go to the entry, he saw light spilling out of the office and Liberty working on her computer at the desk. He watched as she tucked her hair behind her ear.

  He turned away and went to let Pax out. The night was still and bitterly cold, but he could see the glow of moonlight here and there where the clouds were thinning. Pax ran off, and Jake waited, his mind on the dream and the sense of loss he felt when it was over. He hated it. He had to leave the ranch soon and start forgetting about Liberty. That wasn’t going to be easy. He wouldn’t really forget, but he wouldn’t be close enough to catch the hint of roses and vanilla or be on the receiving end of her smile. Pax was back quickly, running past Jake, as anxious to get out of the cold as Jake was right then.

  He was startled when he turned and Liberty was stepping into the foyer wearing pink pajama pants and an oversize T-shirt. “He woke you up?” she asked.

  “Yes, he did.” He wouldn’t tell her how the dog waking him had snatched him out of what had felt like happiness and ba
ck to being alone. It killed him that the dream would always be a dream. His choices, his life—and this pseudo version of home and hearth wasn’t a choice. But that didn’t mean he’d forget that dream anytime soon.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I was just his closest mark,” he said. “Are you heading to bed?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve almost got the revised layout done for Sarge’s space, and I want to go over it again.”

  “Did you get something to eat?”

  “Yes, some soup and fishes.”

  “Fishes?”

  “Oh, sorry,” she said. “My mom always made toast with soup and cut it into dunking strips she called fishes.”

  He watched her expression, part happy about the memory and part wistful. He’d remember this someday and smile. And he’d remember sitting by the Christmas tree with her as if he actually belonged in her life. “I’ll have to try that sometime,” he said.

  “I can make you some right now, if you’d like?”

  “Thanks, but I’m okay.”

  “You know, I just realized, I can make the music as loud as I want, can’t I?”

  “As long as the house doesn’t start shaking.” She headed over to the music cupboard and adjusted the volume knob. Just when he started to feel discomfort from the vibrations in the air, she stepped back. “Is that too loud?”