Tangled Up in Christmas

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Tangled Up in Christmas Page 16

by Jones, Lisa Renee


  “Hi,” I say. “How are—”

  “I never stopped thinking about you. I can’t talk. I just wanted to say that on the phone.”

  I smile and tear up. “I’m glad you did. Go. Take care of the horses.”

  “I’ll call you tonight. I can’t promise when.”

  “Don’t worry about me.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Your kitchen. Is that a problem?”

  “No. No, that is not a problem. Bye, Han.”

  “Bye, Roarke.”

  We disconnect, and I set the phone down. I’m terrified. I still love him so damn much. He could hurt me. I turn and glance out the window, and I’m in disbelief. There’s another deer. It feels like a sign, it feels like more of that hope. There is hope in the air. There is hope for me and Roarke.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Roarke…

  I’ve barely hung up with Hannah when my father’s truck pulls up to the house where I’m staying, just north of a ranch owned by the Native American reservation that called me here to help. I haven’t seen the old man in six months, and I’m not sure what the hell to expect. The last time we were together was in Dallas, at one of Jason’s baseball games. He’d been more himself than he had been since the stroke, and unlike today, his woman, Becca, a pretty brunette in her forties and ten years his junior, had been on his arm.

  Today, he looks fit and younger than his fifty-five years, and I hope like hell he stopped smoking those damn cigarettes they suspect caused his stroke. He doesn’t have one in his hand, and that’s a good sign. He walks toward the porch, and I step out of the shadows. His face lights up, and I hurry down the stairs to be embraced.

  “Damn Horse Wrangler.” He eases back to look at me. “I can’t believe you’re a YouTube sensation.”

  I scrub my jaw. “You and me both. You and me both.”

  “Yeah, well, it suits you.” He imitates me and scrubs his jaw. “Not as pretty as me,” he adds, “but the camera does you wonders.”

  I laugh. We do look alike. He’s tall and fit with thick dark hair sprinkled with the salt and pepper I, no doubt, will one day have myself.

  “Why don’t you do this week’s edition with me? We’ll let the viewers tell us who’s prettier.”

  “Oh hell no. I’m not letting my boy’s feelings get hurt.”

  This is the father I grew up with. This is the man who I know battled to save animals and taught me to fight for them like family. “Now,” he says. “Let’s get serious. Talk to me about the poison and these horses that need to be saved.”

  We head down to the stables, and he examines the animals as I share my suspicions as well as the lab work I’ve run. “I know a guy we need to call in.” He pulls his phone from his pocket, and a few minutes later, he announces, “He’s catching a chopper in Wyoming. He helped me with a case back when you were about ten, I think. Read a lot like this one.”

  “That’s good news because I had another horse fall tonight.”

  “You think someone’s targeting the reservation?”

  “No one is ready to go down that rabbit hole right now, but we can’t close any doors.”

  “Any animal need urgent care now?”

  “They’re stable. I need to talk to you about something else. How about a good cup of strong coffee? It’s the only way this place makes it.”

  “I need some more hair on my chest.” He pats my shoulder, and a few minutes later, we’re at an old wooden table with cups in our hands.

  “I’m not coming back to Sweetwater if that’s what you want, but I’m feeling back to me. My savings is plenty enough to live on, but I’d like to see the world. I’m looking at doing some jobs that will help me make that happen and let me get back to helping animals.” He winks. “I’ll even work for the Horse Wrangler.”

  I chuckle. “You working for me? That’ll be the day.”

  “I miss my son.” He narrows his eyes. “This isn’t what you wanted to talk about now, is it?”

  “It’s part of it, but there’s more.”

  “I’m listening, son.”

  “Hannah came back to help with the camp Jason and I are running.”

  “Hannah,” he breathes out. “I see. Does she know?”

  “No, she doesn’t know. I’m the only one who was home when this happened. Jason was playing ball, and I didn’t even know until Hannah was gone.”

  “How important is she to you now, present day?”

  “I love her. I have to find a way to make the past right.”

  “Do her parents know she’s back?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well if they do, I can tell you right now, they will lash out. They will end you and Hannah again just like they did before.”

  “And we both know who bankrupted her family. That was you. I just don’t know how I tell Hannah you drove them to bankruptcy.”

  “I had no choice.” He leans forward, tapping the table. “You know this. They sold out the portion of their ranch for that damn highway the state wanted to run through Sweetwater and just about had Jason’s parents convinced to sell the entire ranch, or at least his father. I don’t believe his mother ever knew. His dad made rash decisions because of his gambling issues. That highway was going right in front of the sanctuary, and that meant we would be shut down. The animals would be homeless. I did what I had to do to stop that.”

  “Right.” My lips thin. “You hired someone who found an endangered insect of some kind in the right territory to use the protection laws to shut down the highway.”

  “It’s not my damn fault Hannah’s parents spent the down payment the government gave them before it ever hit their account. It’s not my damn fault the government kicked them out for not paying it back. That didn’t have to happen. I offered to help them with the payments. They declined my help and lashed out at you. You know what I believe. Her father told me that you would never marry his daughter.”

  He believes Hannah’s father was behind that video that was sent to Hannah. “I know what you believe,” I say. “I need some air.” I stand up and leave the room, walking outside the porch and grabbing the railing. I should have told Hannah everything when it happened, but I was just so damn stunned by how easily she believed I’d betray her. And what defense did I have but to demonize her parents? Would I do it all over again the same? Maybe. Maybe not. I’m a different man now. She’s a different woman. All I know is that my father is right. It’s time to make this right.

  A plan starts to take shape, and I walk in and talk to my father. “Are you willing to tell your story?”

  He stands up. “Damn straight. You want me to talk to Hannah?”

  “No. I’ll talk to Hannah, but I have a plan to fix this mess that’s going to take teamwork.”

  “Tell me how to help.”

  I pull my phone out and dial Jason. “Hey, man, how are the horses?”

  “We’re working on a solution. We need to talk, and I’m going to ask a favor.”

  “I’m listening. What’s up?”

  “In person. This needs to be in person. Can you come here?”

  “That sounds serious.”

  “It is. I need you, man.”

  “Then, I’m on my way. Tell me where I’m going.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Hannah…

  I’m just heading out to greet the new members of the horse family when Jessica pulls up in her shiny BMW. “Hey, you!” she greets, climbing out of the vehicle. “I heard I’d find you here.”

  “Hey!” I say, hurrying down the stairs to meet her. “What’s going on?”

  “Jason had to go out of town. I thought maybe I’d stay with you, and we could have a girl slumber party to plan the Christmas festival here at Roarke’s place. I can even help with the animals.”

  “That soun
ds wonderful,” I say, truly pleased with this idea. I want to get to know Jessica, and having a new friend here would be welcomed. Of course I might not stay, but I shove aside that idea the minute I have it. I want to be here, and even if things don’t work out for me and Roarke romantically, that man is still the best friend I’ve ever had. I need to keep him in my life.

  “I even bought vegetables and popcorn,” I say. “We can feast.”

  “Seriously?” She crinkles her nose. “That’s the best you can do? Vegetables and popcorn?” She gives me a sly look. “But I must say, grocery shopping is very intimate. It didn’t take you long to move in here.”

  “I don’t know that I have moved in. I’m just—I’m watching the animals while he’s gone.”

  “Because he doesn’t have a staff to do that?”

  “Okay, smartass,” I chide. “They have their hands full. And right now, I’m on my way to welcome the new horses to their retirement home. Want to come?”

  “I’d love to.” She dangles her keys. “I’ll drive. I know where we’re going.”

  A few minutes later, we’re greeting the two new horses with Javier by our side. It doesn’t take long for me to decide that Javier is intelligent, good-looking, and kind. He’s really impressively skilled as well, as I determine when one of the horses is acting oddly, and he takes immediate action.

  “He’s a good addition to the team, don’t you think?” Jessica asks, watching him work.

  “He is. How long has he been here?”

  “About a year, I think. From what Roarke and Jason both told me, Roarke was really feeling the loss of his father, and he needed help. He and Javier get along well. Javier is really all about the medicine. Roarke is more the surgeon with a magic way of taming and calming animals.”

  “A gift Roarke inherited from his father,” I say. “I still can’t believe his father left.”

  “He was gone before I got here,” she says. “I’ve never seen anyone but Roarke in action.” She glances over at me. “That man was a rock for Jason when his parents died. He helped us come together. I value his friendship. I value him as a man who gives and protects. And that man loves you.”

  “I love him, too,” I say softly but without hesitation, my heart squeezing with the words.

  “But it’s complicated,” she supplies.

  “Yes, it is, but it feels less so every moment that I’m here.”

  “That’s a good thing,” she says, wrapping her arm around me, and the two of us grab a bushel of carrots Javier provided and head out to the field to feed the horses. Just thinking about the fifty additional horses at the other facility brings tears to my eyes. They’d all be dead if not for this sanctuary, if not for Roarke.

  It’s hours later when we sit in the kitchen with wine-filled glasses, cheese, and veggies. “You’re a good influence on me,” she declares.

  “Because there’s no Whataburger here. Beware if there is. I’ll eat your meal and mine.”

  She laughs and holds up her glass. “Whataburger is good eating.”

  Her phone buzzes, and she looks down. “Roarke posted a new video.”

  “I can’t quite get my head around Roarke posting videos.”

  “Well, he doesn’t. Would you believe it’s Mick, one of his warehouse guys? This tall, brawny, good-looking black guy who looks like he’s been lifting weights with Arnold Schwarzenegger. He’s a complete YouTube fanatic and was some sort of tech genius in the army.”

  I sip my wine. “Army. Interesting. I’d like to meet him. Seems we have all kinds of heroes running around here.”

  “I think he really is a hero. He was in combat, and I’ve heard stories about some sort of Special Operations. Anyway, he’s the one who loaded the video that started the whole Horse Wrangler thing. He started it all and, of course, he gets a cut of the money. Roarke wouldn’t have it any other way.” She scoots over close to me. “Let’s watch the new video.”

  “Yes, let’s,” I say, and for the first time ever, I’m going to do so without denying I’m doing it, without denying my pride in Roarke, without feeling any anger.

  “Oh my,” she says. “That’s—” She looks at me. “Is that his father?”

  “Yes,” I say, watching as the two of them work with a horse that’s basically losing its shit. “Yes, it is. He looks good.”

  “He does,” she says as my phone rings.

  I grab it from the counter to find Roarke calling. “That’s him,” I say. “I’ll be right back.”

  She smiles. “Take your time.”

  I wave at her and answer the line. “Hey,” I say, walking out into the living room and settling onto the comfy brown couch.

  “Hey, baby. How are you?”

  Baby. The endearment spoken in a soft and tender voice does funny things to my belly.

  “I’m fine,” I say. “How are you? I just saw the video you loaded with your dad. That seemed pretty special.”

  “It is. It damn sure is. He’s better, Han. I read articles and talked to doctors about how strokes can change a person’s personality, sometimes permanently. Thank God, it now looks to have been temporary in his case. He’s even taking on contract vet work.”

  “That’s such good news. Was he able to help with the case you’re on now? Did you find any answers to your problems? Why are the horses sick?”

  “My father has an expert he’s worked with coming in tomorrow. We’ll see. I had another horse go down today. I hope like hell we can stop this before we add to the numbers.”

  “Have any died?”

  “Not since I got here.”

  “Where are you exactly?”

  “A Native American reservation just outside of Houston. I’m in what amounts to a cabin that they call a house. What about you?”

  “I hope you don’t mind, but Jason went out of town, and Jessica showed up here to help greet your new horse retirees. We ended up at your house for a sleepover.”

  “Did you now?”

  “Yes, I mean—Roarke, do you mind?”

  “I mind that I’m not sleeping over with you. Of course I don’t mind, Hannah. Damn it, woman, you know—” He curses under his breath. “When I get home.”

  “When do you think that will be?”

  “Right now, I have no end date for this hell.” His father calls his name.

  “I heard. You need to go. I’m just getting drunk on wine and the scent of you all over this house. I’m good here.”

  “Hannah,” he whispers. “I’ll see you soon.”

  We disconnect, and for the first time in weeks, I realize that Saturday night, Halloween, is two days away. It’s also my birthday, and the only thing I want this year is to be with Roarke, and, ironically, considering I’m in his house, I don’t think I’ll get that wish. I think of the holidays before me and wonder where I’ll be on Thanksgiving Day, aside from in a panic preparing for the Christmas festival only days away. Will I be with Roarke, or will the past be just that—the past—and us with it?

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Hannah….

  The next morning, I wake to a text message of an amazing spotted horse, followed by a call from Roarke. “Morning, sunshine,” he murmurs, his voice etched with exhaustion and worry.

  “You don’t sound good.”

  “Every horse has lived. I’m damn good, baby. I’m damn good. Just tired and ready to find a solution to this problem rather than managing the results of the problem.”

  Someone calls his name, and he curses. “I need to go. I’ll try to call you later.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I’m here. I’ll be here.”

  He’s silent a moment, and then he says, “Make sure you mean that when you say it.” And then he hangs up.

  I sit up and think about that “baby” endearment that feels so much like our past, but the past isn’t on
my mind as I shower and dress. The present is on my mind. The future is on my mind. The jeans, boots, and pink T-shirt I pull on were once my uniform, and I slide into them now with ease and comfort. I slide into this life like it’s my life because I’ve lived in this world more than any other. Which is exactly why when I pull up to Jason’s house, I open the door without knocking. I’ve been here a million times. This is what we do in these parts between these families.

  I’m greeted with coffee and Martha’s fresh cinnamon rolls that are so big and delicious they successfully void out the vegetables I ate last night, but they’re so worth it. While pigging out, I settle in with the team—Martha, Ruth, and Jessica—and get to work. As the day progresses, we’re all excited about how well the Christmas festival is coming together. I end the night alone in Roarke’s house, in his bed, wishing he were here. I’m laying there, staring at the ceiling, thinking about him, when he calls.

  “Hey,” I murmur. “How’s it going?”

  “We’re making progress. We think we found a contaminated pesticide. Tomorrow is going to be a good day filled with answers. I know it.”

  “That’s great news.” We chat for several minutes about the horses here and there, and finally, he asks, “Where are you right now?”

  “Bed,” I say. “I was about to go to sleep when you called.”

  “What bed, Han?” His voice is low, rough, almost demanding and, somehow, not demanding at all. More urgent, a question delivered as if he’s hanging on a limb, waiting for my reply.

  I don’t want him to fall. I don’t want to fall, either, but I climb out there with him anyway, because there is no option but to take a chance with this man, no other option at all. “I’ve decided I’m house-sitting for you. It’s easier to check on the horses.”

  “And when I get back?” he asks, his voice velvet smooth.

  Heat rushes through me. “I guess we’ll figure that out when you get back.”

 

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