Blue Chow Christmas: The Hart Family (Have A Hart Book 4)

by Rachelle Ayala

  “Those trees were already cut, and I didn’t want to offend anyone. Your family loves Christmas trees, and they’re expecting me to cut one down for you.” Brian pursed his lips and shrugged.

  “You’re definitely not committing tree murder on my account. This tree is perfect the way it is, teeming with life.” She watched the branches tumble and bounce from the scampering squirrels. “I can’t wait to bring out some ornaments. We don’t have to have lights, but we can hang tinsel. I’m sure the squirrels will enjoy a popcorn garland.”

  “It’s too high up for me to put a star up there.” Brian shielded his eyes. “It’s at least twenty feet.”

  “There will be real stars in the sky at night,” Cait said. “And the moon will light everything up.”

  “I hope it snows before Christmas. Then we’d have a frosted tree naturally.”

  “Right, without the artificial flocking,” Cait agreed. “It’ll be fabulous. Our best Christmas tree ever.”

  Brian’s eyes crinkled, smiling for the first time since she’d had her accident. She turned her face toward him, limited by the neck brace. He leaned in to kiss her, and they bumped noses.

  “Ow,” Cait said, and Brian rubbed his nose. “Sorry.”

  The squirrels chattered, and the dogs barked, but Brian held her head with both his hands and turned his head ninety degrees to land the kiss.

  She trembled as his lips touched and caressed hers, so careful and tender. A spark she’d never felt before lit her heart, and it was as if she’d never truly kissed him before.

  Closing her eyes, she inhaled the fresh scent of pine and spruce, and kissed him back.

  “Wow,” he said when they broke for air. His eyes were wide and so very blue, and she knew he’d felt it too—a connection, touched for the first time, full of promise.

  “No more blue Christmases for us.” She pecked his lips.

  “You mean the ones where I’m at the firehouse and you’re with your family?” His lips twisted in a wry smile.

  “Exactly. This Christmas is going to be just you and me.” She melted into his arms, but his entire body stiffened and he pulled away.

  “Glen is out there somewhere, and I can’t forget about him.”

  “What do you mean he’s out there somewhere?” Cait grabbed Brian’s arm. “I thought I told you not to get in touch with him.”

  “You did.” Here was another situation where he would have to omit information. Everyone else did it, and like Alana said, it was a life skill used to diminish conflict.

  “Yes, I did, because you don’t know he’s your son.”

  “He is my son.” Brian bristled at Cait’s stern voice. “I have proof.”

  “Did you do a DNA test?”

  “No.” He fumbled for the locket in his jeans pocket. “But look at this. I found it at the accident site. See the writing?”

  Cait’s eyes popped wide and her jaw dropped. She flipped the picture over and back, shaking her head. “It doesn’t prove anything. She calls Glen her little wonder. Maybe she meant miracle.”

  “She capitalized Wonder, my last name. That means he’s mine.”

  “That might not be capitalized.” Cait furrowed her brow. “The ‘W’ is only a tiny bit higher than the rest of the letters.”

  “I know what she meant,” Brian said. “This is a message to me letting me know Glen is my son.”

  “But, does the senator know?” She tucked the picture back into the locket. “You said Alana maintained Glen is not yours.”

  “I don’t care if the senator knows or not. He’s a horrible father. He dumped the dogs at a pound and sent Glen to Marshall Military down south.”

  “Right, he’s horrible, but legally, Glen is his son.” Cait stared at him, as her expression froze. “Don’t tell me you were planning on busting him out of the school.”

  “I’m not that stupid. I deleted my Twitter account already.” Not that she had to know about the Realm of Rogues account. “I’m not going to kidnap him or anything, but he knows we have his dogs, and I’m sure he’ll figure out how to find them.”

  “Uh, Brian? You could get in a lot of trouble if you’re helping him run away from school.”

  “I’m not helping him run away from school.” Technically, that was true. Glen would have to figure his own way out, but Glen was a smart boy, and if he happened to show up at their cabin—well, they couldn’t very well turn him away.

  A smile tickled Brian’s cheeks, and he averted his face from his ever-observant wife.

  “You’re up to something.” She narrowed her eyes and her nostrils flared. “What did you do now?”

  “Nothing.” Brian shrugged and put his hands in his pockets. “Let’s go into town and buy ornaments and tinsel. We have to decorate our tree.”

  “Not so fast.” She chased after him, almost tripping over one of the dogs. “You told him to come here, didn’t you?”

  “I didn’t tell him anything. Honest. But don’t you think a kid needs to be with his father?”

  “He does, and his father is Senator Thornton. He probably doesn’t even know you from squat. I’m sure his mother never told him about you. Heck, he probably thinks you’re a child predator tweeting at him about his dogs and trying to lure him away from school.” Cait threw her hands up and waved them in his face. “You’ve built this fantasy world with you, Alana, and Glen, and this locket. How do I know you didn’t write the words on the back?”

  “You don’t know anything.”

  “No, I don’t.” She put her hands on her hips the same way his mother used to do before giving him a thorough scolding. “I don’t even know why I crashed your car. I don’t know what I’m doing here, trying to have a Christmas with you alone. I want to help you, Brian. But you can’t seriously be entertaining taking a child from his parent.”

  “But, I’m—”

  She put up her hand to stop his protest. “Legally, he’s the senator’s kid. I’m sure his name’s on the birth certificate. You have no claim unless you can get a DNA test. The locket is not proof. It won’t hold up in a court of law.”

  “Then I need to get a lawyer.”

  “You were going to get one,” she agreed, her expression softening. “Until I got in the accident.”

  “Right.” He shuffled his feet and kicked at the pine cones littering the trail.

  “You still want to go? I thought it would be nice for us to spend time together, but not if you have other things to do.”

  “I want to stay with you.” He tugged her into his arms. “If I hadn’t left you to drive by yourself, you wouldn’t have hurt yourself. Every time I think about it, I feel sick. You could have been killed. I could be standing here alone. You’re the only person who understands me, now that Alana is dead.”

  “Uggh.” Cait squeezed her eyes shut and shuddered. “Don’t ever compare me with that woman. I’m not sure she really understood you either, going around diagnosing you and manipulating you.”

  “She helped me.”

  “No, she helped herself and used you.” Cait pushed back from his arms, and he felt a cold chill prick goosebumps over his shoulders. “When we go home, we should go for counseling. I think it’ll help both of us deal with this.”

  “I don’t need to talk about her to anyone.” Brian’s gut tightened. “She’s not here anymore.”

  “But what she did to you affects you.” Cait pursed her lips. “Look, we’re wasting time arguing here. We need to talk to someone and get the DNA test for Glen, and I think it’ll help all of us, including Glen, if we get the help of a family therapist in addition to a lawyer.”

  “We get the lawyer first and worry about all the talking later.” Brian didn’t see the logic behind talking about feelings that no longer mattered. Alana was dead. What difference would it make how he felt?

  She gave him a close-mouthed smile. “Okay, then, let’s get back to San Francisco. I’ll have to board the dogs again with Linx. We’ll get through this together, I promise.�
�

  She spoke as if they were a team, and Brian’s heart melted—just a little bit. She wanted to help him, and she was willing to give up Christmas for him. Was this also part of being in love?

  If so, he’d better imitate her and give something up for her.

  “Let’s stay here until after Christmas. The lawyers are probably on vacation anyway, and you’re right. We can’t do anything until we get a DNA test.”

  “You sure?” She tapped his chest. “I don’t want you worrying about Glen the entire time.”

  “Don’t worry. Glen’s a smart kid. He’ll be okay.”

  “True, and we shouldn’t be upsetting him before Christmas, especially since it’s the first one without his mother. Let him spend Christmas with the only father he knows. It’s important for him to hold onto family, even if we think it’s not the ideal one.”

  “Then, in that case, should we return the dogs?”

  Cait glanced at the two dogs, who’d settled down in the pine and spruce needles. Melia rolled around while Sierra sniffed around the bushes.

  “No, not if the senator wants to get rid of them. It’ll only cause more problems, and we may never find them again. These dogs will help Glen heal from his mother’s death, and I’ve got the feeling they’ll help us get to know Glen.”

  “You’re really ready to accept him?” Brian reached down and patted Sierra’s mane. “You speak as if we’ll all be together someday.”

  Cait squatted down on the ground near Melia and rubbed her belly. “I love my family. I really do, but I wanted a family with you. When I married you, I thought we’d have an instant family.”

  She trailed off and let Melia lick her face.

  He knew about her predicament. It was what had emboldened him to ask her to marry him. She’d needed him, and even though at the end, she no longer needed his name or presence, she’d stayed with him.

  He coughed and cleared his throat. “I was ready to accept your little one.”

  She turned her face up at him and swallowed, her eyes solemn and large. “You knew?”

  Getting down on his knees, he hugged her close and nodded. “I’m the only one who knew.”

  “I’m not ready to talk about it,” Cait hiccupped and wiped her eyes. “I wish no one knew.”

  He held her tighter as she burst into tears. He might be clueless and unable to think the way others did, but he was also the best person to keep secrets, since he didn’t feel the need to talk. Alana knew her secret was safe with him, and he would never reveal Cait’s either.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Well, at least we found our Christmas tree today,” Cait said once they were back at the cabin.

  The walk back had been slow going, but Brian had supported her and helped her hike down the path as the sun set and dusk darkened the way. Her entire body ached, and she’d definitely taken on too much with the hike.

  Thankfully, he believed her when she said all of her pain stemmed from the fact she was bounced around inside of a car while careening over a cliff. Her ribs hurt from the sobbing, and her head throbbed from the concussion. Brian asked no questions, and his silence gave her the chance to shove the memories down. Why had she even brought it up? The part about wanting a family with Brian?

  He’d shocked her the other day saying he knew why she’d married him. She’d ignored him, pretended he hadn’t ripped the scab off her wound, but the pressure was too great. That was it. She’d wanted to reassure him she hadn’t married him out of convenience, but that she’d actually wanted a family with him.

  Accepting Glen would make up for everything, hopefully. She could be the loving stepmother, and no one would fault her if she didn’t want any other children. Watching her pregnant sister-in-law was enough of a trigger. She’d better get used to it, since her two sisters were marrying soon. She could do it. She was a master at deflection, and there would be plenty of family drama to hide behind. No one should ever know—other than Brian, who never ran his mouth anyway.

  Cait rallied her spirits. There was no sense dwelling on what couldn’t be changed. She was here to recover from her injuries, and she had a cabin in the woods to transform into a Christmas cottage.

  She pulled her game face together and puffed out her chest, pretending nothing significant had happened. “I’m ready to decorate our tree. Why don’t you go up to the attic and see what my parents left? They used to do Christmas here before the family got too big. I can pop the popcorn and start stringing the garlands.”

  Back home, they had a theme for each room. A mantel full of snow globes, holly and ivy threaded through the bannisters, and the kitchen was covered with gingerbread houses.

  Here? She’d have to get creative with pine cones, twigs, wine corks, and whatever Brian could dig out of the attic.

  “We could drive down the mountain and hit the general store,” Brian said, glancing at his watch. “Shall we eat dinner down there?”

  The drive up to the cabin from the hospital had been harrowing, but at least they had been going uphill, which meant they weren’t quite as out of control going around the turns.

  “I don’t want to go down the mountain in the dark,” Cait said. “Mom and Dad left us with plenty of food in the fridge, and I’m sure they have old ornaments from before we were born.” She stared at the ladder leading to the attic. “I’ve never been up there before.”

  “I’ll go up and get them. You’re still wearing the neck brace.”

  “Doesn’t mean I can’t climb.”

  “Let me check the light bulb and clear the cobwebs.” Brian ducked into the kitchen and grabbed a duster.

  That was how he always was, a guy who thought of everything. He was quiet and behind the scenes, especially in her large family, but he always paid attention to ensure she was comfortable.

  On impulse, she kissed his cheek. “You’re too good to me.”

  “Now you’re making me nervous. Your family expects me to take good care of you. I’m sure Connor will be on my case if this isn’t a perfect Christmas for you.”

  “Just get up there and get me the ornaments.” Cait slapped his backside as he ascended the ladder.

  He was too good to her, especially since she’d set out to dupe him the same way Alana had duped the senator. The only difference was she’d ended up empty-handed. For years, she’d consoled herself that she’d done Brian a favor by marrying him to help him get the house.

  She buried her head in her hands and sat down, waiting for him. If he’d known all along, it went a long way toward explaining why he’d stayed away from her—neglected her, and basically treated her as a roommate.

  She didn’t deserve him up there cleaning the cobwebs and retrieving her family’s ornaments. He didn’t need her taking advantage of his good nature and his social awkwardness, trapping him in a marriage he neither wanted nor needed.

  “What have I done?” She stared into the flickering fire. “Brian doesn’t owe me anything. Not a red cent. Not a kiss. And certainly not his heart.”

  As if sensing her anguish, the two dogs waddled to her side. Melia laid her head on Cait’s knees and Sierra lay down with her paws over Cait’s feet.

  “Cait?” Brian descended the ladder. “Are you okay? Do you want to come up to the attic and rummage around?”

  “Sure, yes. Of course,” Cait mumbled, not sure or okay with anything. Maybe she should have gone home with her family. The noise level and activity in the Hart household would have offered many distractions, and she could have been the ringmaster of all the hubbub and decorating.

  Besides, both sisters had offered her carte blanche with their wedding planning. She could use their weddings to launch her event planning business, as long as she changed her name to Cait Wonder.

  She averted her gaze from Brian, but he took her hands and placed them on the ladder.

  “I’ll be right behind you,” he said. “Your mother has treasure boxes up there. It’s a good thing she saved so much since she lost everything e
lse in the fire.”

  “Oh, you’re so right.” Cait’s pulse leaped as she climbed into the attic. “She lost everything in the fire. What would she decorate her tree with?”

  Brian wasn’t wrong. Cait opened boxes after boxes of heirloom ornaments from delicate glass balls to crystal collectibles.

  “These are too nice to put outside,” Brian said.

  “We should call them back to fetch these for their tree.” Cait dangled a pair of silver bells. “These are precious.”

  “There are photo albums, too,” Brian said. “I wonder why they left them here.”

  Cait opened the first album and caught her breath. “This isn’t them, at least, that’s my mom, but …”

  “Is that you?” Brian pointed to the baby in her mother’s arms.

  Cait nodded, but she wasn’t looking at the baby. Instead, her eyes were locked onto the man standing next to her mother. “I don’t get it. I’ve never met that man. He’s got red hair.”

  “Maybe he’s an uncle?” Brian’s voice squeaked in a strangled sound.

  Cait removed the picture from the corner holders and turned it over. There was nothing but a date written on the back. “I was two months old. My parents were only married five months before I was born. What if?”

  She left the rest unspoken. The man in the picture had her auburn hair and his eyebrows matched hers, with its downward sweep, so unlike the upward arching brows of her brothers and sisters.

  “I think I’m going to be sick,” Cait said, shoving the album back into the box. “Can we forget what we saw?”

  Brian put the lid back on the box. “I’m good at forgetting. Let’s not decorate our Christmas tree. I hear it’s going to snow the week before Christmas.”

  Brian was good at remembering what he was supposed to forget, because he didn’t forget anything.

  Not being able to forget would have caused pain in a normal person, but fortunately, his shields were full strength, and he didn’t have feelings to get hurt.

  Logically, it was mean of Cait to marry him and try to pawn off her baby with Tommy Harper on him, but the baby was never born. She never told him what she did with it, so he didn’t ask.