Whispers of Forever: Mending Christmas (Canyon Junction: Hearts In Love #1)

by Mary J. McCoy-Dressel

  Jake gulped. Me too. “Good night, and thanks again.” He ushered Trace out. All his strength tried to seep out of his pores, though he struggled to remain tough.

  Outside, T.J. hopped up into the truck. “Maybe we’ll see them at church.”

  Don’t count on it. “Maybe.” Jake went around to his side and got in with a longing he had hoped would dissipate after they’d met again at the Sunset Grille. If they hadn’t already planned on church for Christmas Eve, he’d stay home, but his ranch hands expected to see him there and would save him a spot. They all had the day off tomorrow. Christmas Day.

  Bull.

  Shit.

  ***

  Sitting in the pew earlier, Jake had gone through the motions until it was over, and they rushed out without speaking to anyone. Trace fell asleep on the way home from visiting both sets of grandparents after the service. An emptiness filled him up inside. “Wake up, Trace. We’re home.”

  Trace let Kasha outside then came in to feed her. Then he turned on the tree lights and the lights on the banister Grandma had added this morning.

  “Go put your PJs on. If you want to stay up a while, you can.” Jake poured a soda and took a seat on the sofa. He flipped on the TV, but turned it off after going through the channels. Nothing he wanted to see. Instead, he turned the receiver on, twisting the knob to heavy metal music. Jake rolled his eyes and leaned his head against the back, drums and bass guitar rocking his brain into oblivion.

  Trace plopped down beside him in his flannel bottoms and t-shirt. “How did you meet Mom?”

  Jake closed his eyes and went back. “I met her at a bronc riding show like I said. An important one, too. She was the prettiest girl in the stands.” It was true.

  “Really?” Trace leaned his head against Jake’s arm and stretched his legs out to the ottoman beside his dad’s.

  That sexy lady in the low-cut top had his attention from the moment she had sat down, but his intention wasn’t to marry her. All he, and she, had intended was a night of fun. “Yep, I stared at her, and she stared at me. I won big that night.”

  “Mom was your lucky lady?”

  Jake laughed. “How do you know what a lucky lady is, anyway?”

  “Cartoons.”

  “All right,” he agreed and chuckled. “Well, I strutted up to the stands and plopped right down beside her, introduced myself. Her smile was so sweet. She took my hat off and wore it herself the rest of the night. Her way of making sure I came back later for my hat.”

  Trace giggled. “Mamma didn’t like cowboy hats.”

  “Yep, but she did at first.” She didn’t like cowboys either after a short time.

  “Then what, Dad?”

  “Well, she did a couple more shows with me. I mean traveled with me in my truck to the next circuit and a bunch more after.” This wasn’t what he wanted to be talking about, or thinking about tonight. Maybe next year would be different. Whatever it took to get Trace through this year would be done.

  “When did you ask her to marry you?”

  After a short consideration, he put a halt to the questions. “Do you want to watch TV?”

  “Nope.” Trace ran out of the room but came right back with a photo album. “Can we look at pictures of my mom tonight?”

  Argh! “Sure we can.” First, he rose and went to change the station, putting it back to carols and lowered the volume. Back at Trace’s side, he lay the album on his lap and talked about the pictures as Trace turned pages. They were special to T.J., but more than one photo in the book reminded him of the different phases of their married life. The pregnancy. The small wedding. They got to the ones later on in their life, when Jake had noticed the changes in his wife. “Look at this one of you and mom together in the barn with Blue. I’ll get it enlarged, and we can hang it in your room if you want.”

  “I do. I’m getting tired. When is Beth coming over?”

  A glance to the tree, and he visualized her standing there ogling him on the ladder while he ogled her back, both thinking, wanting the same thing… History now. Jake shook his head and closed the book. “You better get to sleep before…you know what.”

  “Dad, stop about Santa.”

  “Humor me, kid. I might still believe in Santa Claus.” He tapped T.J. on the nose and hugged him. Since the topic of Paige had come up, Jake had to know. “Not long ago you told me that Mom had a boyfriend—Austin. How long had you known she had a boyfriend, because I didn’t know?”

  Trace stood in front of Jake, spun around, then went over to stand in front of the tree where Kasha lay almost asleep. He peeked underneath. “I hope I get my dirt bike for Christmas. You know how many CCs I want, too. It won’t fit under here, Dad.”

  “Ah, yep, 80 CCs and knobby tires. Answer my question, son.”

  He turned around and sighed. “Mom said they were friends, but I saw them kissing one night after we moved into her townhouse. I never told her I saw them, but that was before I went in his plane.”

  “You didn’t tell me about going in the plane, either. I found out from your mom.”

  T.J. clasped his hands and twisted his fingers around each other. “Mom told me not to tell. Are you mad?”

  “I’m not mad. Curious is all.” Jake stood and for the fun of it, peeked under the tree. “I hope I get my remote-control drone with a camera for Christmas.” He wiggled his eyebrows, and the two of them headed to the stairway.

  “I want to play with your drone if you get one,” Trace said on the way up. “It’ll be a blast to watch the wild mustangs running in the desert.”

  “So do I, and that’ll be cool, but remote-control drones aren’t toys. Did you buy me one?”

  “Dad. No. I didn’t have enough money, but Grandpa took me shopping for something else. I can’t tell you until tomorrow.”

  For sure, no one else would’ve bought him a “boy toy,” so he bought himself a top-of-the-line drone with a camera. When Trace came to bed, Jake hugged him good night. “I love you, kid.”

  “I love you, too, Father.” Trace giggled and pulled Jake down on the bed, attempting to tickle him.

  Thirty minutes later, Jake went back upstairs to see if Trace was asleep. When he was, he went outside, loaded up a wagon with gifts, including a couple from Wade, and brought them inside to set under the tree. Next, he wheeled the new dirt bike into the family room and went back for the protective wear to go with the bike. He hung a bag of molasses cookies from Judy Carlson, and Christmas stockings on each stall, from Santa, of course. Afterward, he went back inside, turned off all the lights except the tree and the ranch road lights, settling down on the sofa with the rest of his soda.

  Checking his text messages was a waste of time, but he nearly sent one himself, even typed out, “Don’t throw us away, Beth. We don’t have to be alone tonight.”

  Delete!

  Dammit! Hadn’t she wanted this, or had he been mistaken? His heart sat heavy in his chest, and his brain wanted to scream until it didn’t hurt anymore. Jake lifted his hand to his nose. Great, her perfume lingered on the cuff of his shirt. He inhaled it, torturing himself with the fragrance and the sight of her tonight.

  The perfume took him back to the loft where they had consummated their love. He laid his head back and closed his eyes. His whole body ached with yearning. The same yearning he tried to drink away for two years.

  Trudging upstairs, he took the new ring from its box, stuck it on the tip of his little finger, and observed it. Jake gave a mournful sigh. He carried it downstairs with a longing in his gut he willed to go away. The special emerald cut diamond in this specific design had been created for her. It couldn’t go back to the jewelers. While sitting in front of the tree, he opened the box again, the multicolor lights dancing off each facet.

  Jake closed his eyes and drifted off until his glass tipped in his lap, his other hand still squeezing the box. Tonight, he couldn’t go to bed, so he sat there staring at the lights, thinking about the past few months and all that had happened—b
oth with his wife and Beth.

  The other night he’d had a nightmare and woke up calling Paige’s name after hearing her screams in his dream while he tried to rescue her from the crash. Again, his eyes closed. Whether it was a shadow or a blinking tree light, a darkening or streak of light crossed over his face.

  He opened his eyes as car lights came up the road. Now what? Earlier, he had noticed one of the guys had left a wrapped package in the barn office. A door shut in front of the house, though, not the barn. Jake got up to see what it was about. He pulled the door open to find Beth standing there. She had the same dress on and was more beautiful than the day he had met her.

  She blinked while asking to come inside.

  “Sure. Whatcha got there?”

  “Cookies for you two and Wade.”

  “Wade gets cookies for catching you nearly naked?” Shit, shoot me now. He waved her inside.

  “He gets cookies because he saved my ass from your mom seeing me nearly naked. Where can I put these?”

  “Follow me.” In the kitchen, he put his glass down and set the cookies atop the refrigerator. “Kasha will be getting into these if I don’t put them up. Wade’s out of town.” When he turned back, he caught her sniffing the contents of his glass.

  Frowning, he glanced at her act of smelling his drink, which kind of pissed him off. “It’s straight soda. No woman will ever drive me to drink again. Not even you, Beth, although it’s tempting…but not worth it.” Saying those words cut him deep, but at this point, it was the truth. “What are you doing here?”

  “I can’t stay away from you.” Her words blurted out in a shaky voice, trailing off at the end.

  Jake peered into her eyes as they filled with tears, and he leaned against the counter, folding his arms. “You’re staying? Know this for sure, because as much as it sounds sissified, I don’t want to stay away from you, but I won’t play these games with you coming in and out of our life.”

  Beth shoved his glass aside, eyeing him while her chin quivered. She held her arms open. “I’m staying. I never wanted to leave you, only to let you two cope, but…”

  Jake took her into his arms and slid his hands up and down her back and over her hips. “Whatever you think about this household healing, get the hell over it. Trace wants you here, too, even if his healing takes a long time. Most of my pain for Paige happened before she left me. Sure, I’m sorry she died, but I’ve had plenty of time to heal from pain she’d inflicted. I’ve never healed from you.” He burrowed his face against her neck. “Didn’t I say I loved you? I don’t say those words lightly.”

  “One day I do want to be Beth Lawton. Forevermore.” She sobbed as she clung to him. “I’m sorry for tonight. It was bad behavior—”

  “Never mind, baby. You’re here now where I want you. Where you belong.” He balled her hair up and tugged her head back, staring into her eyes. How they glittered from the dim lighting coming from the family room. “Now, again say you love me.” Jake smiled when she repeated it, and pressed his lips against hers as he released her hair, letting it fall down over his hand.

  “I love you, amore mio. More than anything. Hurting you and Trace is something I can’t fathom, but I…”

  “Shh, I understand. Trace truly does want you here. I’m glad you came back.”

  “I couldn’t not come back. At home earlier I went through a lot of my old keepsakes, pictures, movie tickets, yearbooks—life with Jake Lawton—memories of us, and I know we are meant to be together. I hope Trace can understand and one day accept me.”

  “He does.” Jake released her and placed his hand at the small of her back. “Come sit a while before we go to bed.”

  “I brought things for breakfast. I need to get it out of the car to put away. I wasn’t sure you’d want me to stay, so I left it there.” Beth shook herself free and strolled toward the door.

  “Need some help?” he asked, but followed her out. Good thing, because she had more than an armful. “What is all this?”

  “Some gifts for you and T.J., a dish I like to make for breakfast on busy mornings, and some juice, etc. You’ve had it before at my house a long time ago. Do you still have the decorative table paraphernalia I brought over the other day?”

  He nodded.

  She handed him an overnight bag. “I brought a change of clothes, too. You’re going to love my itty-bitty Santa surprise lingerie.” Flashing a smile, she continued, “For your eyes only.”

  Jake wiggled his eyebrows. “I can’t wait!”

  Beth took his arm and smiled. “Yes, deep inside, I was overconfident you’d want me to stay, yet ten percent fearful you wouldn’t.”

  Jake liked the ninety percent of confidence. After getting the cold stuff into the refrigerator, they entered the family room, and her face came aglow.

  “Santa came, I see! One little boy will be happy in the morning with a motorcycle. A motorcycle?” She stuffed some wrapped packages beneath the tree.

  “It’s a dirt bike.” Jake was bowled over at the smile on her face. She was his. He glimpsed the ring box on the table, rushing over to nonchalantly shove it between the cushions at the end of the sofa. Finally, they sat down, close. “Do you want anything to drink? A glass of wine?”

  She settled into the crook of his arm, crossed her leg over his, sighing. “No thanks. I want to drink you in.”

  “Here I am.” He leaned over and gave her a slow, tender kiss, which shot to his toes and settled below his belt. Together they sat with their hands entwined, quietly staring at each other—lost within each other’s gaze. A sound drew his attention before Trace jumped off the second to the last step—Kasha behind him.

  “Beth, you’re back!”

  She turned then stood. A smile as bright and large as a full moon shined from her face. “I’m back, Trace. I love your father too much not to stay. I’ll love you when you’re ready to let me love you.”

  Trace ran over to wrap his arms around her. Jake was stunned. To see that sight in front of him made his heart whole again. Believe. She smiled at Jake while she embraced his son, and he couldn’t have been more in love with her. Now, he had to get his son out of the family room where the gifts were out in the open. But it was too late.

  Trace released Beth and stood with his arms stretched out from his sides. “A dirt bike? Dad, thanks!”

  “I didn’t do nothing. I went to let Beth in, and this is what we found when we came back.”

  “Nah, uh. You did it.” He wore a doubtful frown on his face regardless of how he felt. “Didn’t you?”

  Jake shrugged. “I guess you’ll never know. Don’t stop believing.” He stood and hugged his son and Beth together. “Merry Christmas you two. Now one of you has to get to bed—back to sleep.” And one of you is going to bed but not to sleep.

  “Beth, will you be here in the morning when we open presents? I got you something. Will you stay?” T.J. held a serious expression, and lifted his face while he waited for her to answer.

  “Yes, I will be here, Trace.”

  “Awesome.” He did a high then low five with his dad. “I’m going to bed.” Trace ran up the stairs, but in a couple seconds he ran back and stopped half way down. He peeked over the bannister, laughing. “Can you two come over here?”

  Jake took Beth’s hand, and they went over to the side of the stairway.

  “Close your eyes, both of you.” When they did, he yelled, “Open them!”

  Jake and Beth opened their eyes to see Trace holding mistletoe above their heads. They all three laughed, but Trace dangled it above, taunting them.

  Giggling, he forced out, “Come on, you have to kiss.”

  “Yeah, we do,” said Jake, “but how the heck do you know? No, don’t tell me. TV.”

  “Yep, and I’m almost ten!”

  “Maybe we need to cut down on your TV watching.” Jake embraced her and gave a quick kiss, stopped, and they both glanced upward at the mistletoe still dangling at the hands of a giggling boy. This embarrassed the hel
l out of him in front of his kid, but he embraced her, dipped her to the right, and kissed her wildly until she laughed against his lips.

  “Okay, okay, I can’t breathe,” she muttered. “Trace, give a couple a break.”

  “Okey, doke. I’m going to bed for real now.” He tossed the mistletoe at his dad and ran upstairs. “I know there is no Santa Claus. Come on, Kasha!”

  Beth laughed. She took a seat on the sofa, leaned forward with her elbows against her thighs, her chin in her hands while peering at the tree. “Jake, please forgive me, but I lashed out because I was hurt. It’ll never happen again, for I love you too damn much…and that boy of yours, well, I’m pretty attached. I love him.” She shook her head and closed her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

  Jake’s voice was hardly audible, “Beth?” When she faced him, he held the ring box open.

  She met his gaze, and her eyes flicked back to the ring. “Jake?”

  “Yeah, it’s what you think. I already asked you to marry me more than a decade ago and many times in the past two months as a reminder. I’m making due on my promise right now.” He took the ring from the box and held it up. “I’m officially asking again. Will you marry me, Beth Macaroni Marconi?”

  Tears rolled down her face yet she laughed at the same time. She held her hand out to him. He took it and placed the ring over the fourth finger of her left hand, closed his eyes, and released a bottled-up breath.

  Both hands cupped his face as her tears freely fell. “Yes, Jake Lawton. Finally. Ti amo, my love.”

  Jake kissed her again to seal the deal. “You’re speaking Italian on purpose, aren’t you?”

  “I am, amore mio.”

  He cocked his head. “What do you mean anyway? Something you can say in front of your mom?”

  She slid her hand to the back of his head, tilted hers, and moved close to his lips. Before kissing him, she whispered softly, “My love. Ti amo means love you. Ti amo, amore mio. Love you, my love.”

  “Ti amo, amore mio.” Glancing toward the tree, Jake smiled. “I turned myself on. It’s Christmas morning, honey. Let’s go to bed. It’s time to exchange presents.” He took her hand to pull her up from the couch. They strolled to the stairway arm in arm.