by Kat Brookes
A second chance for a first love.
Her little family needs healing...
Could he be the answer to her Christmas wish?
Home for the holidays, widow Lainie Michaels never would have thought to ask old love Jackson Wade to help her troubled child. But when her still-grieving son forms a bond with the handsome rancher, ignoring Jackson goes from challenging to impossible. Jackson let his first love go once before, but this Christmas, he’ll hold on to Lainie with all his heart.
Bent Creek Blessings
“Do you think we could do this again sometime?”
“Hmm...I’ll have to think that one over a bit,” Jackson said, pretending to contemplate her question. “Getting you back behind the wheel would mean I would no longer be needed to take you and Lucas here and there. I’m not so sure I’m ready to give that up.”
“I would think you would be relieved,” she told him with a smile.
“You’d be wrong.”
Her smile softened with his admission. “I’m realistic if anything. I know I have a long way to go before I’m going to be comfortable behind the wheel, but I want my independence back. Want to be the kind of mother Lucas deserves.”
His expression softened even more. “Your son is already blessed to have you for his mother, whether you drive or not. He’s just too young to really appreciate what he has, but that will come. Right now, he’s still working through a lot of pain and grief.”
Reaching over, she covered his hand with hers, giving it a squeeze. “I’ve missed you, Jackson Wade.”
Kat Brookes is an award-winning author and past Romance Writers of America Golden Heart® Award finalist. She is married to her childhood sweetheart and has been blessed with two beautiful daughters. She loves writing stories that can both make you smile and touch your heart. Kat is represented by Michelle Grajkowski with 3 Seas Literary Agency. Read more about Kat and her upcoming releases at katbrookes.com. Email her at [email protected]. Facebook: Kat Brookes.
Books by Kat Brookes
Love Inspired
Bent Creek Blessings
The Cowboy’s Little Girl
The Rancher’s Baby Surprise
Hometown Christmas Gift
Texas Sweethearts
Her Texas Hero
His Holiday Matchmaker
Their Second Chance Love
HOMETOWN CHRISTMAS GIFT
Kat Brookes
But let him ask in faith, nothing wavering. For he that wavereth is like a wave of the sea driven with the wind and tossed.
—James 1:6
This book is dedicated to my cousin
Kathy Dillan and to my good friend
Melissa Huddleston. Two women very
near and dear to my heart. I’m so grateful
to have you both in my life.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Dear Reader
Excerpt from The Christmas Courtship by Emma Miller
Chapter One
Lainie Michaels lifted the snow-dusted doormat again, thinking she might have missed the house key her brother was supposed to have left there for her. Nothing. She tried the door again, but it was locked up good and tight. Straightening, she blew on her chilled fingers to warm them and then slipped her gloves back on. At least she’d had the forethought to purchase winter coats for her and her son before moving back to Wyoming.
“I don’t want to be here!” Lainie’s seven-year-old son, Lucas, bellowed behind her, stomping his tiny foot in defiance.
Lainie turned from the locked front door and forced a smile as she prepared to face yet another one of her son’s emotional thunderstorms. “Honey, you’ll like living here in Bent Creek.” At least, she prayed he would. More than anything, she wanted her son to be the sweet, loving little boy he used to be before she’d taken his joy away.
“It’s cold here. I wanna go home,” he replied, his tiny brows furrowed into a deep-set scowl.
Early December in Bent Creek could be cold. Especially when her son was accustomed to California winters, but it was a little soon for any real snow accumulation. Lainie’s gaze moved past Lucas to the large, white flakes coming down from the wintry sky above. Then again, maybe it wasn’t. Cold or not, while living in California, she’d missed the beauty Wyoming winters could bring, the sight of the distant mountains and vast land surrounding her brother’s place, the home she had grown up in, glistening with newly fallen snow. Especially during the holidays.
Looking down at her son, Lainie suddenly felt overwhelmed by emotion and exhausted from having gotten up before dawn that morning to catch their flight. And then, after a three-hour layover in Denver before finally landing in Rock Springs, Wyoming, the nearest airport to Bent Creek, they’d had to take a taxi to her brother’s place a good fifty-minutes away.
“We are home,” she told Lucas. Or, at least what would be their home until they found a place of their own in Bent Creek. Even if she changed her mind about staying there permanently, which she hadn’t, they would have no way to leave. The taxi that brought them there had already driven off. They’d sold their two-bedroom condo in downtown Sacramento, sent a few boxes of their personal items ahead to her brother, Justin, a week prior to flying home and then placed the remainder of their things in storage until they found a home of their own and could have them brought out.
“This isn’t my home,” her son said, his voice cracking with anger.
“It is now, sweetie,” Lainie said softly, praying that she’d made the right decision in coming there.
“You take everything away!” her son sobbed, tears of frustration and anger now filling his hazel eyes. “Even my dad. I hate you!” Turning, he sprinted off the porch and disappeared around the side of the house.
Lainie ran over to the railing and leaned out, watching as Lucas ran away from the house, no doubt to the fort his uncle had built for him two summers before. “Lucas!” she called after him, hot tears blurring her vision. It wasn’t the first time he had run off, and it wasn’t the first time her baby boy’s words had left her feeling broken. Her son hated her, and she couldn’t even blame him for it. He’d lost his father, and it was all her fault. A lump formed in Lainie’s throat as the memory of that night surfaced, making it hard to swallow. No amount of “I’m sorrys” could ever make up for the pain she had caused her little boy. She’d never forget the look of confusion on his face when she’d told him his father was gone, and then fear and bone-deep sorrow that slowly settled in as her son processed her words. It had nearly broken her. A mother’s words were supposed to wrap their child in love and make them feel safe, not shatter their entire world.
The sudden sound of hoofbeats had Lainie turning, a small gasp leaving her lips as she took in the sight of a man seated astride a beautiful buckskin gelding. He came to a stop just on the other side of the porch at the far end of Justin’s house. Although he wore his cowboy hat low and the collar of his leather duster lifted to block the icy, whirling flakes, she’d recognize those dark green eyes of his anywhere.
“Lainie,” Jackson Wade greeted her, his voice so much deeper than it had been when he’d spent time at her house when they were growing up. Jackson had always been her
brother’s best friend and also her heart’s greatest weakness.
Her stomach felt as though she’d just taken a steep drop on a roller-coaster ride. The last time she’d seen Jackson had been in the hospital in Las Vegas after he’d been injured while bull riding at Nationals. Only Jackson hadn’t known she’d been there, because she’d not been able to step beyond the open door. Just seeing him lying there, eyes closed, machines surrounding him, had been more than she could take. Especially since she blamed herself for his being there. Had lived with the self-imposed guilt of it for years. Oh, why did their paths have to cross at that very moment?
Lainie turned away, looking off into the direction her son had run, trying desperately to collect herself. “Justin’s not home,” she said as she hurried to swipe a poorly timed tear from her cheek with her gloved hand. Jackson Wade was the last person she wanted to see her in such an emotionally vulnerable state. In fact, she’d prefer not to cross paths with him altogether, now or ever. Unfortunately, “ever” wasn’t in the realm of possibility, considering they were both going to be living in the same small town.
“I know,” he replied as the sound of booted footsteps treading up the porch steps came from a few feet behind her.
She cast a fretful glance back over her shoulder as he strode toward her, her attention drawn to his slightly off-kilter gait. A limp she had caused, she thought to herself, guilt making her turn away once more. She couldn’t bear to see the man who had broken her heart. The man she had in turn broken physically.
A gentle hand came to rest on her shoulder. “Lainie,” he said, his voice filled with concern.
Jackson, she thought in silent response. Her first love. An unrequited love. But one her heart had never quite gotten over. Even after she had married Will Michaels, a kind, supportive man, the handsome cowboy standing behind her had still maintained a special place in her heart. One of the reasons she had done her best to come home to visit only when she knew Jackson would be away, running stock to the various rodeos. And then after her husband’s death not quite two years before, she had avoided Bent Creek altogether. For her son, who was not dealing well with his grief. She thought that she needed to keep his routine as unchanged and normal as possible. And, if she were being completely honest with herself, it was also because of the feelings she still harbored for Jackson. Feelings she should have been able to put to rest after she’d gotten together with Will, but her stubborn heart had refused to cooperate. Staying away from Bent Creek, away from Jackson, had been the only way she could think of to assuage the guilt she felt.
“Are you okay?”
No, she wasn’t. But it was no less than she deserved. She nodded. “I’m fine.” How much of her conversation, of her son’s resentful words, had Jackson overheard? She couldn’t bear the thought of anyone thinking badly of Lucas. “Just a little family disagreement.”
His large hand fell away, and she found herself wishing it back, needing the comfort that small gesture had provided her. “I’d be happy to have a talk with him if you think that would help matters,” he offered.
Lainie forced herself to turn and face him, but kept her gaze fixed on the front of Jackson’s shirt instead of on the pity she knew she would see in those eyes. When had his shoulders grown so incredibly wide? “Thank you,” she managed, “but no. I need to see to this on my own.” Just as she had been since her husband’s passing.
“Then can I at least help you go look for your son?”
“No,” she said a little more adamantly, shaking her head. She didn’t want Jackson’s help. It had been hard enough turning to her brother as it was. She was Lucas’s mother. She should have been the one to make things right again for her son. “I know where he’ll be.”
“In the fort?” he replied.
Of course Jackson would know about the small, wooden fort her brother had built for Lucas in the woods behind his house, just beyond the edge of the yard. He and Justin knew pretty much everything about each other. But then they were close. Had been since Justin’s first day of school in Bent Creek, after their parents had adopted him and Lainie and brought them to the small, welcoming town to live.
“Yes,” she said with a sigh. The counselor she had taken her son to not quite six months before had told Lainie that there would be times when Lucas would need time and space to grieve and sort through his feelings. She’d given him that, but it hadn’t seemed to make a difference. Her son’s resentment toward her was always simmering close to the surface.
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Only if you’re a locksmith,” Lainie muttered.
He chuckled, his chin lifting just enough to free his face from the cocoon his collar had formed around it. The warm sound of it drew her gaze upward until it came to rest on his face, one that had grown even more handsome with age. His chestnut hair was close-cropped under his well-worn cowboy hat, and he wore just a hint of sideburns alongside his clean-shaven face. “It just so happens I can help you out,” he replied with that lone-dimpled grin she had never forgotten as he held up a small brass house key. “Justin called to tell me that he’d forgotten to leave a key under the doormat for guests he had coming to stay with him and asked if I could run the spare he’d given me over to the house.”
Guests? Had her brother avoided telling Jackson that she was the guest he was referring to? Was he unsure his friend would be comfortable with the given task if he knew the whole truth?
“Long-term guests,” Lainie supplied with a troubled frown. “Lucas and I are going to be living with my brother until we can find a place of our own.”
His eyes widened in surprise. “You’re moving home?”
“Moved,” she corrected. “As of today.”
He nodded as if struggling to find a response to the clearly unexpected news. Lainie found herself wondering if the kiss they’d shared all those years ago still lingered in the back of his thoughts as it did in hers. And not in the way a first kiss shared between two people should.
“It’s been hard on Lucas dealing with life in Sacramento since his father’s passing,” she tried to explain without going into detail.
“I can imagine it would be,” Jackson said. Then his expression grew serious. “I never got to tell you how sorry I was to hear about your loss.”
“You sent us a card and those beautiful wind chimes,” she said with a grateful smile.
A frown pulled at his mouth now. “I really am sorry. I should have done more.”
She shook her head. “You thought about us and that meant a lot.” She reached for the key he was still holding in his hand, feeling the chill of the metal through the fingertips of her glove. “Thank you for going to the trouble of running this over to us in this weather.” She glanced past him. “And by horse, at that.”
“I can still ride,” he muttered. “Just not competitively.”
The guilt that filled her at his reminder was almost painful. He’d loved the rodeo and she had taken that from him. “I just meant that you could have driven the key over,” she hurried to explain. “It’s cold out.”
He shrugged, his broad shoulders lifting and dropping beneath his leather coat. “Cold’s never bothered me. And it’s wasn’t any trouble running this over to you. And, Lainie...” he said, their gazes meeting.
“Yes,” she replied, unable to look away, and her heart skittered, just as it used to do when she was a lovesick teenager. That thought brought Lainie immediately back to reality. She was not that same girl. She was a widowed mother of a very lost child, and Jackson was no longer that same boy she had once known. He was a grown man with responsibilities, part of which revolved around the very thing that had kept them apart—the rodeo.
He smiled down at her. “Welcome home.”
“Thank you.” She glanced in the direction Lucas had run off in. “I should go see to my son.” She just prayed he’d had time to ca
lm down enough for them to be able to talk. She hated watching her precious little boy slip so far away from her emotionally. Hopefully, her brother would be able to help bring him back.
“If I can ever do anything...” He let the offer trail off.
“We’ll be fine,” she replied. “But thank you for offering.”
Jackson tipped his hat and then turned to leave.
Lainie watched him go, tears filling her eyes as she took in the change in the confident gait she remembered. That slight hitch to his step made her heart ache. Jackson could have died that day, and she would have had to live with that guilt for the rest of her life, just as she did with her husband’s death.
* * *
You take away everything! Even my dad. I hate you! Jackson flinched at the memory of those harshly spoken words. Words that had to have broken Lainie’s heart. Will had died in a car accident. Why would her son blame Lainie for that?
Lainie, he thought to himself as he parked his truck in front of the sheriff’s office, regret filling him. The girl he had cared so much about. The girl whose heart he’d broken. If he had the chance to do it all over again, would he have gone about things differently? He’d asked himself that question more times than he could count over the years, but he remained torn over the answer. Lainie had been his best friend’s little sister, which had made him keep his growing feelings for her to himself. It had seemed like a line he shouldn’t cross. But he had and kissing her at the town’s annual Old West Festival Dance that night had been both eye-opening and life changing.
Jackson stepped down from his truck, closed the door and headed for the nearby building. He let himself inside and made his way to Justin’s office. Shoving open the door, he stepped inside. “You might have told me,” he said, his words tight.
His friend, the town’s sheriff, glanced up from paperwork and then sat back in his chair. “Would you have gone over to my place if I had?” he asked matter-of-factly.
