by Diana Palmer
Faith’s entire childhood had been out of her control, so when she’d gained custody of Pax eight years ago, she’d promised he would have the kind of stable and happy upbringing every child deserved. She’d dropped out of nursing school and came home to Sweet Plains to make good on her promise—even if that meant occasionally looking like a crazy woman.
He tilted his head down, meeting her gaze, his lips curved into a gentle smile. “It’s just what, Faith?”
Faith stood steady, even though her instinct was to move away. “I don’t like guns. Even toy ones.”
“My mom didn’t either.”
“She sounds like a smart woman,” she said, and he took off his hat. The gesture was meant to put her at ease, but Faith didn’t trust well-practiced body language. Trusting meant letting down her guard and that, when standing down a giant with a weapon, was asking for trouble. So she said, “What happened to you?”
He laughed—and even that was sexy. “You know, most moms would thank me for driving their kid around town.”
So he thought she was a mom. So what? It wasn’t Faith’s responsibility to correct his assumption. A lot of people arrived at the same conclusion. They took one look at Faith’s tiny house on the outskirts of town, her late shifts at the B-Cubed, and early rounds at the hospital, and decided she must have been a teen mom.
In a way, she was. Overnight, nineteen-year-old Faith had gone from a top-of-her-class nursing student to a job-juggling single mom. Pax had barely turned three when their mom, Hope, decided she didn’t have it in her to be a mother anymore.
Faith’s choices? Move home and raise Pax or stay in school and watch him go into the system. It was a no-brainer. Faith chose Pax.
And she would again. Every time.
“I assure you, I’m not like any mom in town.” First there were her rules, which to most seemed over the top, but to her were vital if she wanted to maintain custody. Then there were the mandatory trips to visit Pax’s father at the penitentiary three towns over, the last Saturday of the month like clockwork. And finally, there were whispers and stares that, no matter how hard Faith tried, never seemed to go away.
“I’m starting to get that.” He moved so close that Faith could see little golden specks in his brown eyes. A tiny scar that started at his temple and disappeared into his thick, brown hair.
“Like I said, there won’t be a next time. End of story.” Exactly what she’d told Gina in the diner.
“Angel, this story’s barely begun.” He stepped closer. The electricity crackled between them, and she was certain he was going to kiss her—right there on Main Street. “If you want a sneak peek at chapter one, why don’t we head out of here and grab that cup of cocoa so you can make good on those two thank-yous you owe me.”
She arched a brow. “Two?”
“The tree.” He held up a finger. Then another. “And the ride.”
“Thank you and thank you. But like I said before, I don’t date.”
“Funny, because the way I remember it, wearing a guy’s jacket was a pretty bold ‘he’s with me’ statement. And you still have mine, angel.”
“Only because I forgot to give it back.” She failed to mention that she might have slept in it the night before. Perhaps pressed her nose to the fabric and breathed him in deeply. “And I didn’t know you were staying. Which was why I planned on giving it to Shelby next time I saw her.”
“Good news. I’m staying through the holidays,” he said, and alarm bells went off. “So we can exchange clothes and anything else you had in mind. How about tomorrow?”
“I work.”
“How does Sunday sound then?”
She laughed. “Like a Christmas miracle.” Most Sundays started with baking before the sun rose and ended serving dinner and pie at the diner.
“Good thing miracles are my specialty,” he said, and the low rumble of his voice had her good parts twinkling. “So, Sunday?”
“I’m busy.”
“I didn’t give a specific Sunday, angel.”
He didn’t need to. Noah’s staying in town made her nervous. The way he called her angel had her belly fluttering as if there were six swans a-swimming in there. That he was giving her a look, the same look she’d received from men ever since the day she’d grown boobs in the sixth grade, made her downright furious.
“You’re right,” she said, sweet as honey. “What Sunday are you leaving?”
“Sunday after Christmas.” He rested a forearm on the hood, as if he had not a single doubt that she would bat her eyes and say, “Well then, cowboy, why don’t you pick me up at five?”
Sadly for him, Faith didn’t bat—her eyelids or anything else for that matter. And she didn’t date. “Sorry, cowboy, but it looks like I’m booked every Sunday from here until, well, you leave. But you enjoy that cocoa.”
Chapter Four
Noah headed back toward the Crossing after the last rays of sun had disappeared behind the rolling hills, settling in for a long winter’s nap. But his smile was beaming like it was high noon in July.
He rolled down the window, breathing in the crisp night air. Without the bright lights of the big city, the sky was a deep, never-ending blue, lit by millions of twinkling stars.
It reminded him of the antique glass ornaments his mama used to collect. Over her lifetime, she’d amassed dozens of them. Each a different color and size, and each with its own story of origin. One she uncovered at a yard sale, another in an antique shop in Gatlinburg, and her favorite was a gift from her granddaddy. They weren’t expensive or even that pretty, but she and her granddad would drive up and down the South looking to add to their collection. She’d even bought her sons one on their first Christmas. Noah’s was a twilight blue with iridescent golden specks.
Every year, they were the first thing unpacked and the last things hung on the tree, as if once in place his mama was saying that Christmas could officially call on the Tucker house.
The year she passed was the last year the ornaments had hung on the family tree. It was also the last time Christmas called on the Tucker house.
So when Noah pulled through the iron gates of his family’s ranch, he let out a surprised bark of laughter. Down the rough gravel road he could make out all six horses, standing in front of the barn, wearing matching Santa hats. Big red bows topped the gas lamps that lined the drive, with garlands twirled down each of the poles.
Then there was the house—his mama’s house—outlined in so many lights, it looked as if it belonged on one of those Holiday Wars shows. Strings of lights dripped down from the gutters, mimicking icicles, and soft white strands twinkled along the gabled roof down to the wraparound porch. And poking out of the chimney was a set of Santa legs, wiggling as if he’d had one too many of Ms. Luella’s pies.
But what held Noah’s attention was Santa’s most disgruntled employee. Cody Tucker—six-one, thirties, 180 pounds, and wearing a red Santa hat—was affixing a bow to the front porch light.
Cody must have heard Noah’s approach because he gave a wave from the top of the ladder. By the time Noah pulled up next to the barn, his older brother was walking down the steps, carrying a tangle of bows and lights.
Noah hopped out of his SUV and let out a laugh because he could now see that MR. DECEMBER was written across the brim of Cody’s hat. “All you need is a boom box and rip-away pants and you’re set. I hear the senior center’s looking for some holiday entertainment.”
“I’d wait until you see your hat before you start making jokes,” Cody said, and Noah groaned over all the different hats Shelby could have ordered for him. “And don’t think you missed all the fun. There’re still seven or eight boxes of lights left on the porch. So why don’t you gather them up and meet me at the barn? Shelby’s holding her pumpkin pie hostage until the barn’s finished.”
“I could skip the lights and go enjoy your slice of pie, little brother,” he said, knowing the nickname riled Cody. Although Cody was two years older than Noah, by the time N
oah reached first grade, he’d gained an extra two inches on Cody—and that hadn’t changed.
Cody snorted. “If you let my wife think you’re some poor Tiny Tim, she’ll sit you at the family table and feed you until you’re nice and plump.”
“That what happened to you?”
“Between Shelby’s cornbread and Luella’s pies”—Cody gave a low whistle—“it takes an extra two hours working in the barn just to button my pants. No more teen-hires from the neighborhood to shovel my stalls.”
Cody took off a glove and when Noah went in for a shake, Cody pulled him in for a hug. Which caught him off guard. They didn’t do hugs. None of the Tucker men did. But Logan had been right—things had changed around there.
A whole lot, Noah thought, taking in Cody’s mud-caked work boots and jeans. It was a far cry from the uptight, loafer-wearing developer Cody had been only six months prior. Noah guessed becoming an instant father could do that to a guy.
“You hate shoveling hay.”
“I also hate turning away a fine piece of pie.” Cody rubbed his stomach. “One of JT’s friends said I had a dad bod. I walked around like a stud at an auction until Ms. Luella explained it was one step above being called the Pillsbury Doughboy.”
Noah picked up the rest of the lights and followed Cody to the barn. “That’s what happens when you become domesticated.”
“Remind me, when was the last time you woke up with a beautiful woman in your arms? This morning? Oh no, wait that was me. You woke up spooning Mr. Teddy in the same bed you used to wet.” Cody plugged in the strand, then started weaving it between a line of hooks, which made a grid across the barn. “In fact, the most action you’ve had lately would be ogling an elf up a Christmas tree.”
“Did you hear that at your quilting club meeting? Or during gossip group at the Ladies of Sweet social?”
Man, he’d forgotten how fast news traveled in Sweet. His run-in with Faith had made it back to the ranch almost before he had. Wasn’t that exactly what Faith had been worried about? And here he’d thought she was making a mountain out of a molehill.
“Sticks and stones.” Cody handed Noah the other end and together they strung the lights around the barn doors. “So, Faith Loren, huh?”
Noah rolled his eyes. “We had a run-in.”
“Town’s saying two. First when you offered to show her your pistol, then today when you tried to impress her with your sirens.”
“What’s so wrong with a guy trying to be neighborly?” Noah argued. “I thought people in small towns got off on stuff like helping frail old ladies cross the street or rescuing kittens from trees.”
“Let’s be clear. There is nothing frail or old about Faith Loren. And even if you find her up a tree, don’t fall for it. She’s a full-grown cat with claws and isn’t afraid to use them.”
“I didn’t even get the chance to be charming.”
Cody smiled. “Don’t take it personally, bro. She’s had enough bad luck with men to make her wary of anyone walking around waving a pistol.”
“You think you could have warned me about her issue with law enforcement before I dropped her kid off in my fancy cop car.”
“Pax is her kid brother not her kid,” Cody said, then took a second look at him. “Please tell me you didn’t refer to her as his mom?”
“It was a logical assumption.” One she hadn’t bothered to correct. Probably because she’d rather have another reason to add to her TABLE FOR ONE list.
Noah had to smile because he knew, without a doubt, Faith kept a long, detailed list of all the reasons she didn’t date. She probably toted it around in that enormous backpack of hers, wanting to have it on hand to add new reasons as she encountered them—like a guy letting her kid brother run around town with a toy gun that, if Noah was being honest, might cause a less experienced officer to look twice.
“For Pax to be hers, she would have had to have been, I’m guessing, like fourteen or fifteen when she had him.” Cody held up a hand. “And before you remind me of how we were at that age, you knew Faith when she was in high school.”
“Yeah, kind of blew that, too,” Noah admitted.
“And you wonder that you’re single.”
Noah didn’t have to wonder. He knew exactly why he was single. His last three girlfriends had made that perfectly clear. He worked long hours. Worked at home. Pretty much worked himself out of every good relationship he’d ever had. Even with his family.
But why was she single?
Faith was intelligent, down-to-earth, and didn’t have a problem standing her ground. Not to mention insanely beautiful. Like a blow-your-mind, lingerie-model-meets-girl-next-door kind of beautiful—although Noah didn’t remember ever having a neighbor who looked like her.
Honestly though, it was the way she presented herself, with an inner confidence that showed how comfortable she was in her own skin, that drew him in. Talk about a turn-on.
She was also the most suspicious and closed-off person he’d ever met outside of his profession. Most days were a revolving door of liars, cheaters, and the unforgivable. People stuck in a bad situation who’d made the wrong choice. And for the citizens who didn’t try to evade Noah when he flashed his badge, he was usually meeting them on one of the worst days of their lives.
In his experience, there were only a handful of reasons for someone like Faith to be as wary as she was. And none of them settled well with Noah. Her fierce independence didn’t seem like a statement as much as a necessity for survival. Which he respected even more.
“What’s the deal with Faith and her brother?” he asked, wrapping the strand around a hook and trying hard to sound casual.
Clearly, he’d failed because Cody’s expression loosely translated into Let me guess. Asking for a friend? Noah flipped him a finger, which needed no translation at all.
“Faith isn’t really a sharer,” Cody said as if Noah didn’t already know. “But from bits of town gossip and talking with Shelby, I’ve pieced together that their mom decided she wasn’t cut out for parenthood, packed up her bags, and left town. Faith moved home and adopted Pax.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Eight years.”
Noah let out a low whistle. “Man, she was young. That’s a lot to take on.”
“So she’s too young to be his guardian but not too young to be his mom?” Cody asked while climbing up the ladder so he could string lights across the top of the barn door. “How does that math work?”
“What I meant is, being a teen mom’s hard enough.” Noah handed Cody a new strand of lights. “Being a teenager with a toddler dropped in your lap would make for one heck of a steep learning curve.”
“I know how hard it was to step in as JT’s dad. And he was ten,” Cody said, and Noah knew his brother would give anything to get those missed years with his son back. “Plus, I had Shelby to help me through it.”
Cody and his wife had had a rough start to their relationship. College sweethearts who placed their trust in the wrong friend and ended up losing a decade together. In fact, if Silas hadn’t added a stipulation to his will, which required a Tucker to sleep at the ranch for a year straight, Cody still might not even know he had a son. Not that Noah was giving his dad credit for doing anything right by Noah and his brothers, but JT had been a blessing. That amazing kid had given the three brothers, whose only connection had been surviving their childhood, something new to bond over.
The love and healing that came with the next generation.
Who knew, maybe Shelby was right? Maybe Silas’s intentions had been pure. Maybe he really had looked at his passing as a way to bring his sons home to heal and make new memories. Or maybe it was his final attempt to control their lives. Either way, Cody and Shelby had found their way back together and anyone looking at JT could see how much love and support the kid was surrounded with.
It made Noah wonder who Faith had in her corner. Even at the worst of times, and Lord knew there were plenty, Noah and his brothe
rs always had each other. From the little he’d learned about Faith, she seemed to be in the thick of it all by her lonesome.
“Shelby said that Faith was off at college and decided to come home for winter break,” Cody went on. “She’d barely unpacked her bags when her mom took off. One day she was a nursing student at UCLA, the next she was a single mom.” Cody paused, looking down from the top of the ladder. “Wait, why are you asking me all these questions? You’re the one who can pull up her entire life story with a touch of a button.”
“I didn’t think of it,” he lied. Noah hadn’t been able to think of much else since he’d caught her swinging in the sheriff’s tree. “Plus background checks only give the facts. I’m looking for what wouldn’t be in there.”
Cody laughed. “I don’t think I’ve seen you this into someone since Rachel Bellows showed you all her secrets behind the chem lab sophomore year.”
“I’m not into her,” he said, and Cody laughed. “Why? Because I didn’t pry into her life?”
“Yes. You pry. That’s what you do. You are the most suspicious person I have ever met.”
“I’m a Ranger. Being suspicious keeps me alive.”
“You were convinced Shelby, the sweetest, most honest person alive, had ulterior motives,” Cody pointed out. “You even ran a background check on my son when I didn’t ask for a paternity test.”
“JT has some sketchy eyes,” Noah said, climbing up the ladder at the opposite side of the door.
“Like his dad.” Cody tossed Noah the lights, and he wrapped the strand around the hook and tossed it back. They made their way around the entire exterior of the barn that way, talking and laughing, and Noah had to admit, it felt pretty good.
“I didn’t run a background on the lady who bought the ranch on the west side last month,” Noah clarified.
“Ms. Lancaster is seventy-six and doesn’t make you blush.”
Looking back, Noah could admit, maybe he’d gone a little overboard when Shelby and JT showed up in Cody’s life. And yes, it was true that in the past, Noah had had zero qualms about doing a thorough check on anyone who came within two feet of his family.
