by Karen Rock
Joy rubbed Clint’s ears. “The right gal could make him give up all of that. Amberley’s special.”
“We should invite all our neighbors over.” Jewel sat up straight and her braids whipped as she looked around the group. “Have our annual Christmas party again this year.”
“We talked about it at the board meeting. You know why we stopped putting it on.” James’s gaze settled on Jesse’s picture.
Jewel bit her lip and nodded. “Sure. Sorry, Ma.”
“I’d love to have it again,” Joy said, her face buried in the side of Clint’s neck.
“I want a party!” Javi leaped off the couch and slid in his stocking feet to the disco tree. “Do we get to dance?”
“Lots.” Joy joined him and took his hand in hers. She twirled him around and around. “And we sing.”
“Tons of eating, too,” Jewel added. She dropped into Javi’s spot on the couch and propped her feet on the coffee table. “Ma used to make ten different kinds of Christmas cookies. It’s Carbondale’s event of the season. Used to be, anyways.”
“We need to introduce Javi to everyone,” Justin added.
“It’s not possible,” James said. Stern. “Ma can’t put on an event that big with her wrist still healing.”
Joy’s and Javi’s faces wore matching expressions of disappointment. “It’d be a big undertaking,” Joy said, slowly, her eyes on Sofia as she spoke. “Invitations to address. Shopping to do. Decorating. Cooking. Baking.”
Sofia’s heart pounded against her eardrums. She’d love to help and give this wonderful family a party to remember. An event that Javi would never forget, either. Could she do it? She’d never been able to see a large project through before. Anytime she’d tried, she’d ended up feeling like a bigger failure than ever.
But NA had taught her not to fear setbacks or hide from defeat. Making mistakes was how she learned. Real problems arose when you didn’t try at all.
“I’ll do it,” she volunteered, then smiled wide, with more confidence than she felt in the face of James’s sudden, fierce frown.
* * *
“SOFIA?” JAMES PROMPTED again and she looked up from the notepad she’d been clutching since her offer yesterday to resurrect the family Christmas party.
“I’m sorry. What was the question?”
Sofia’s dark brows slanted together over long-lashed eyes. Her golden skin, highlighted by a cream cowl-neck sweater, glowed with some internal light of its own. She drew his eyes, his thoughts, his heart—he’d admit it—like a moth seeking warmth on a cold, chill night.
“We were asking if you’d completed an expenditure budget for the holiday party,” James asked. He rolled the pen in front of him on the boardroom meeting table, back and forth, back and forth, anything to keep himself from staring too long at Sofia, especially since his family now seemed to be catching on to his growing feelings.
“An expenditure budget? Like a shopping list?”
He closed his eyes briefly. Putting on a party for over a hundred neighbors in just a week was no easy feat, especially for someone with little experience. Why hadn’t he spoken up when she’d offered to take over the party planning last night?
Because you’ve grown to trust her, a voice inside whispered.
You want to see her succeed.
If she failed, would the progress she’d made disappear? Gone was the insecure woman who’d flailed against any suggestion or criticism. In her place stood a woman whose growing confidence, strength and steadiness disarmed and enchanted him. He didn’t worry anymore about her going to Portland in terms of providing a stable home for Javi.
No.
His worries about her departure stemmed from a selfish motivation.
He wanted her and Javi here.
Period.
They’d become family to him. Yet he wasn’t in any position to convince Sofia to stay when every minute alone with her tempted him to give in to his growing affection. He’d refused his brother’s pleas to come home. The last person who should ever benefit from Jesse’s tragedy was him.
Despite the below-freezing temperature outdoors, a laboring woodstove in the corner kept the air crackling hot. He yanked the collar of his thermal shirt away from his warm neck.
“An expenditure budget means prices for each of the items you need to purchase,” his mother said. “I can help you with that.”
Sofia’s shoulders lowered and she let out a breath. “Thank you.” She reached across the table for the pitcher of sweet tea that sat beside an enormous box of chocolates and poured herself a glass. The fluid spilled a bit down the side of her glass, he noticed, her hands shaky.
“What about decorations?” Crinkling sounded as Jared, a fast-food junkie, peeled back the wrapper from a cheeseburger. “Need any help there? I can get anything you need.”
“I could use a hand setting up, but I believe Joy mentioned decorations in the attic.”
Joy nodded. “And my recipes. I still need to get those out for you.”
Jewel sighed heavily. “I can help bake.”
At the loud chorus of noes, Jewel slunk down in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, don’t say I didn’t offer.”
“Duly warned,” James drawled, enjoying how easy it was to rile his spitfire sister, especially when he sat a safe distance away.
Jared tipped his hat. “The fire department thanks you for staying out of the kitchen.”
“And the ER’s also grateful since we won’t be showing up with food poisoning.” Justin smirked.
Lightning fast, she swatted each brother in the shoulder and their laughter turned into ows.
In the bright day outside the window, the wind was picking up. It sounded like wide country wind, barreling down long, straight miles with nothing to stand in its way, as if the ranch was standing high in the middle of empty nowhere. Yet here with his family, with Sofia, he felt like he was exactly where he wanted to be.
“Speaking of punch,” Jewel continued with only the slightest twist to her mouth, “I can handle that.”
“Sure looks that way,” Justin grumbled, rubbing his arm.
Well. Served him right, James thought. You messed with Jewel, you got the paws.
“That’s appreciated, Jewel.” Sofia turned her glass of sweet tea in her hands, watching the light play on the surface of the amber fluid.
“Jack can play Santa.” His mother’s eyes glowed. “He’s bringing Dani home.”
“Think he’ll pop the question?” Jared ripped open a packet of ketchup and squirted red on the edge of his wrapper.
“He’d be an idiot to let Dani get away,” Jewel vowed. Murmurs of agreement circled the table. They all liked the dude-ranch stable manager who had managed to wrangle his wandering older brother.
“How’s the guest list coming?” James asked when the room quieted. “Where are we on that?”
Sofia’s large eyes came up, wary. “I’ve been going through your Christmas card mailing list and the contacts on everyone’s phones. I’ll have it finalized soon.”
“Don’t invite all of the girls on Jared’s phone,” Jewel warned. She leaned across the table, studying the chocolates. After selecting one, she bit it in half, grimaced, tossed it back, then selected another.
“I second that,” Jared concurred after swallowing a mouthful of burger.
“Will you run the list by me before sending invites?” James checked.
“Sure,” she mumbled, sounding anything but. His concern rose. Was she getting in over her head?
“Want me to put together a party playlist?” Justin offered. He linked his fingers over his head and stretched backward, setting his chair creaking.
Sofia drew tight lines in the condensation on her glass. “Sounds great.”
�
��Metallica isn’t exactly holiday music,” Jared countered. He balled up his sandwich wrapper and winged it across the room where it dropped neatly into the garbage can.
Justin lifted an eyebrow. “Speak for yourself.”
“I hadn’t really thought about music.” Sofia flipped through what looked like pages and pages of scrawled writing. Concern pinched the corners of her eyes, and there was a seriousness to her mouth that belied her casual tone.
“And we’ll need to make sure that we have some gluten-free and peanut-free options,” Jewel prompted. She examined another chocolate and scraped the top with her fingernail before putting it back and reaching for another. “Who puts jelly in chocolate? Ugh. Oh. And the Harris kids are allergic to like everything, right?”
“And Mrs. Finley’s lactose intolerant, so we’ll need to keep that in mind with the appetizers.” His mother tried to catch Sofia’s eye.
Sofia nodded vigorously, shoved back her hair and scribbled fast without looking up.
“For the ham, talk to Mr. Burton. He sells fresh,” Justin mumbled around the toothpick clamped between his teeth.
“Ham?” The question was natural enough, but all of a sudden her voice was full up with things James couldn’t catch, and the flash of her wide eyes beneath her hair was too fast and too intent.
Jewel sniffed another chocolate piece. “Caramel!” She popped it in her mouth. “We need ham for the dinner course.” Her cheeks bulged as she chewed.
“Dinner course?” Sofia echoed. The corners of her mouth drooped.
“Can’t have the dessert course until we eat our supper.” Ketchup dripped from one of the French fries Jared dunked, then brought to his mouth. “Right, Ma?”
“Right. Now, Sofia, I don’t want you to worry about making all ten kinds of my Christmas cookies.”
“What about the rum cake?” Justin leaned forward. Everyone knew Justin loved rum cake with a passion that nearly surpassed his love for his Harley.
“And somebody needs to make the bread pudding.” Jewel pointed a half-chewed chocolate. “I can—”
“Nooooooo...”
She shrugged, looking more relieved than offended. “Then put me down on the decorating committee with Jared.”
Sofia nodded jerkily, as though her mind and her body had drifted apart somehow and weren’t listening to one another.
“And I’ll help write out the invitations,” Joy contributed. Then she glanced down at her sling. “Not sure how good my writing will be, though.”
“You can apply the stamps,” Sofia said, her voice steady, but he could see her knee jiggling beneath the table and glimpsed the extra bit of white all around her eyes.
“How about lights...special effects?” Justin rubbed his hands together, as excited as ever about anything that might cause a major insurance claim.
“Like...?” Sofia’s eyes moved to him, dark and doubtful.
“We used to have fireworks. I can get those.” Jared scrounged in the bottom of his bag and fished out a couple of limp fries.
Sofia nodded and wrote. “Okay.”
Though she didn’t sound okay—not that his excited family, too focused on the party, noticed.
For quite some time, he’d been seized by a heightened awareness around Sofia, as if he alone observed her more closely than others. The way her left eye twitched a bit when she got nervous or upset. How her expressive hands revealed more than her words. The relieved and grateful expression she wore whenever someone approved of something she’d done or said. How she put everyone first. The lengths she took to make people happy and at ease, though she was never either of those two things herself.
“So Jared and I are decorating, Ma is doing stamps, Justin’s blowing himself up.” Jewel licked the chocolate from her fingers one by one, catlike. “And Sofia’s doing everything else?”
Sofia swallowed hard.
“No, she’s not.” He spoke up and all eyes swiveled to him. “I’ll be helping, too.”
“And what’s your job?” Jewel demanded, skeptical.
Sofia watched him, steady-eyed, her wariness gone. He admired her determination in taking on this challenge, no matter what they’d thrown her way at today’s meeting.
“I’m going to do anything Sofia tells me to do.”
Her surprised smile warmed him right down to his boots.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“WE NEED HOW many bags of chocolate chips?”
Sofia stopped scanning her shopping list (more of an illustrated guideline) and glanced over at James. Well over six feet, broad shoulders filling out a rugged jean jacket over endless, denim-clad legs and scuffed boots, his head encased in a dark brown cowboy hat that accentuated his handsome face, he oozed masculinity in the baking aisle’s feminine midst.
Lots of appreciative female glances zoomed his way, more than a few from Sofia. With his hands shoved deep in his pockets, his weight shifting from boot to boot, his jaw tense, he appeared utterly uncomfortable surrounded by rainbow sprinkles and colored frosting tubes. Seeing über-controlled, uncompromising James out of his element softened her toward him, disarmed by discomfiture.
Not that looks were all of it. Not even close. The more she’d gotten to know James these past couple of weeks, the more she appreciated the layers beneath his hard-bitten facade. The fact that he’d followed through on his surprise offer to help yesterday and accompanied her party shopping made him someone she could count on—a man of his word. So very different from her father after all, whom she could never depend and lean on, especially in her darkest times. She’d never known a tough, loyal, principled person like James before, and she very much hoped that he might be starting to respect her, too.
Doubt nibbled on the edges of her happy bubble. Had he joined her simply to help or because he didn’t trust her to get the job done properly on her own?
“We need ten bags of chips.”
“We don’t need ten,” he refuted with the absolute certainty of a man who’d never done a day’s baking in his life. His boots clomped on the store’s glossy tiled floor. Overhead, long rectangle fluorescent lights cast the vast, two-story space in grayish-blue hues and a piped-in, instrumental rendition of “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” filled the stagnant air. She shivered inside her parka every time the automatic front door swished open.
As he drew close, she breathed in his subtle scent: leather, clean male skin and an undertone of something spicy that made her toes curl in her boots. “We need at least three bags for the chocolate chip cookies, four for dipping the almond crescents and another three for the fudge.”
Tingles of awareness shot up her arm where his shoulder brushed hers. “I thought the white chips were for dipping.”
“We dunk the Oreo balls in white chocolate,” she said, as patiently as she could. Honestly, if not for the aggravation, she’d feel a little giddy at how the tables had turned. Suddenly, she’d become the responsible one, explaining plain facts to Mr. Authority-on-Everything James. All her life, she’d been labeled a failure, the person who didn’t follow through, who left when the going got tough.
The loving, generous Cades, however, inspired her to try harder, drawing on her experience working for a catering business. Plus, with James, she had something to prove. She wanted him to see her as a capable woman he could trust. Count on. Why exactly, she hadn’t a clue.
Or at least not one that she’d admit to.
Everything was set for her Portland move. With the money Sofia saved from her caregiving work with Joy, her future now promised the fresh start of her dreams. So why wasn’t she more excited about it?
Her eyes drifted to James.
“Then what were the butterscotch chips for?” His thick brows met over his nose as he scanned her scribbled notes.
“Magic bars.” She snapped her
fingers. “Shoot. I guess I mean eleven bags of chocolate chips since we need some for those, too.”
“What else is in a magic bar?” he asked, wary.
“Coconut flakes, sweetened condensed milk, graham cracker crumbs... It’s all on the list.”
The overhead PA system crackled and a disembodied voice asked for managerial assistance at a front register.
“This list?” He pointed a calloused finger at her scribbling and doodling.
She did her best to will the heat in her cheeks to subside. “Yes.”
“Thought you were allergic to lists.” One eyebrow rose.
“Maybe I’ve grown to appreciate them...”
He smiled slowly, eyes gleaming. “Wore you down, didn’t I?”
“Like pneumonia.” She sighed dramatically, full of fake despair, enjoying this developing comradery between them. “No. The plague.”
They shared a laugh and then she sobered. What was she doing? She needed to resist her growing feelings for James, not flirt with him, for goodness’ sake.
“Is this some kind of shorthand?”
“It’s more conceptual. Kind of like a graphic novel.”
Since she didn’t have patience for much reading and writing, this was the best she could do...and so far, it’d worked. It might not be a traditional method, but she was finding her own way and it filled her with satisfaction. To her surprise, she liked event planning. Had she stumbled, at last, onto something she might be good at?
“You certainly got creative with the spelling. And some of these calculations are a bit off.” Despite his teasing tone, she stiffened, the shame of her lack of education washing through her and dousing her budding excitement. After a moment, he waved a hand in front of her face. “Sofia?”
“I didn’t graduate high school, okay?” She was done with hiding every bad thing in her past. It only festered and filled her with fear.
James gaped at her. “I—I—”
Before he could finish, a toddler careened down the aisle clutching a glass jar of maraschino cherries. “I want it!” he wailed.