by Jane Porter
McKenna smiled to herself. “Is this for sale?” she asked.
“Yep. Want it?”
“Yes.” She plucked the stocking off the hook and handed it to him. “It’s perfect.”
*
The thick lacy flakes fell in heavy swirls as McKenna pulled up in front of the movie theater to pick Trey and TJ up. She slid all the way over on the bench seat so Trey could lift TJ into the truck for his middle spot.
“How are the roads?” Trey asked, climbing in and closing the door.
“Good. The snow is sticking but it’s powdery so there is no problem.” She buckled TJ’s seat belt. “How was the movie?”
“Awesome,” TJ said, “And we had popcorn and candy.”
“Let me guess,” she said. “Red Vines?”
“How did you know?”
“That’s always been your daddy’s favorite at the movies, and what we had when he and I went on dates back in high school.”
“They had Red Vines all the way back then?”
She smiled and tweaked his nose. “It wasn’t that long ago.”
“Was I born then?”
“No.”
“Then that was a long time ago.”
*
It continued to snow steadily the rest of the afternoon, with the snow piling up outside on the wooden railing of the deck, burying the shrubs outside the cabin door. When they first arrived back at the cabin, Trey had made several trips outside to bring in enough firewood to see them through the night, and now they sat at the pine dining table playing Go Fish with an old deck of cards Trey had found in one of the kitchen drawers, while Christmas carols sounded on the little transistor radio.
Trey shuffled the cards at the end of the latest game. “Are we done?” he asked, stretching his legs under the table. “Everybody had enough?”
“No!” TJ cried, leaning on the table, reaching for his cup of spiced apple cider. “Let’s keep playing.”
McKenna glanced out the window. Dusk had fallen and it was quickly getting dark. “I need to start the spaghetti sauce soon or we won’t eat dinner until late.”
“But I’m not hungry yet,” TJ said. “And this is fun.”
McKenna made a soft sound that sounded an awful lot like a groan. He glanced at her, smiling. “Still having fun?”
She gave him a tortured smile and tugged on her ponytail, tightening the elastic band. “You know how much I love card games.”
Trey laughed softly, enjoying himself, but then, honestly, this was a gift. When he’d learned that McKenna was getting married he’d gone through a hell all of his own and he’d never imagined then, waking up Saturday morning that he’d be here with Mac and TJ today.
This was his Christmas. This was the best gift ever. He honestly couldn’t ask for more, and he wasn’t ready to think beyond today…and maybe tomorrow.
He and McKenna hadn’t talked about the future. As far as he knew, there was no future and maybe once upon a time that would have been hard for him to accept, but four years at Deer Lodge had taught him patience, as well as acceptance.
He couldn’t control everything. He couldn’t please everyone. He might not be able to please anyone. The only thing he could do, was do his best.
He was trying his best now.
He was focusing on gratitude, too.
Life was short and unpredictable. Instead of going through life feeling entitled, he was going to count his blessings, every single one of them, and right now, his greatest blessings were sitting here at the table playing cards and sipping cider and making him feel like the luckiest man alive.
*
The ground beef and tomato sauce and seasonings were simmering in a pot on the stove and McKenna stepped outside the toasty little kitchen to stand on the porch and watch the white flurries.
Twilight had given way to night. Snow piled high on the porch railing and buried the shrubs by the front of the cabin.
She left the porch and climbed down a step and then another, feeling the snowflakes land on her face and catch in her hair.
It was so quiet out, so blissfully still.
The fresh white snow transformed the landscape, hiding the barren spots, the rocks and dirt, coating weeds so that everything looked beautiful and new.
But wasn’t that the magic of Christmas? Wasn’t that what made this season so special? Birth, hope, new life…
She glanced over her shoulder back at the cabin and could see through the big picture window Trey and TJ at the table, building a house from the cards. Behind them the fire crackled in the stone hearth and the Christmas tree with the white lights and vintage ornaments cast a colorful glow.
From here on the porch, it looked like a scene from a movie…
If only life was as warm and sweet as a Hallmark movie…
She could use one of those happy endings. TJ, too.
Her eyes burned and she blinked, wanting so badly to give TJ the life she hadn’t known. She wanted him to have happiness. She prayed he could grow up without the tragedies she’d experienced. She hoped he could grow from boy to man before he should ever have to suffer and grieve, as she’d suffered and grieved.
It was more than nineteen years since that terrible night when her family had been attacked. And still she couldn’t think about it, couldn’t picture it, dwell on it, remember in any detail at all how horrific it had been.
Just learning to live without them all had been hard enough. She didn’t need to have the horrors burned into her mind.
Trey was such a big part of her healing.
Trey was the one that helped her start to feel safe. Secure.
He was her angel. Her tough, rebel angel.
No one else saw the side she did, but she knew something no one else did—he would protect her with his life.
He would die before he’d let anyone hurt her.
He was there to help her through.
And so when TJ had been conceived, it wasn’t this terrible shame, but a gift, and a blessing. TJ was a testament to their love, and proof that good things did happen. Good things would continue to happen.
The cabin door opened and Trey stepped out, gently closing the door, but not shutting it all the way.
“You okay?” he asked, coming down the steps to stand next to her. The snow swirled around him, flakes drifting onto his hair.
She smiled up at him. “Yes.”
“You just felt like taking in some snow?”
She crossed her arms over her chest, holding in the emotion. “This has been an amazing day. It’s…perfect.”
“We didn’t really do anything.”
“We didn’t have to. Just being together made it perfect.”
He reached out, and smoothed his hand over the top of her head, and then down the length of her ponytail. “I agree.”
He was standing close, very close and she could feel his warmth and his strength. It would be so easy to just lean against him, to absorb his warmth and strength. He’d feel good. He’d feel right. He’d feel like love.
Like home.
She stared up at him, her gaze locking with his, her chest growing heavy, tight.
She wanted him to kiss her.
She wanted him to hold her.
She wanted him to be hers again.
But they’d been down this road before. It hadn’t gone well. And the pain of living without Trey when things had gone wrong had been so extreme. The pain was excruciating. It was honestly more than she could bear.
So how did one make it work? How could she love him without constantly worrying, and fearing the worst?
He must have seen her fear and doubts because he clasped her face in his hands, lifting her face to his. His blue eyes “You don’t have to know everything, babe. You don’t have to solve all the problems of the world tonight. Just live. Just love. Just breathe.”
And then his head dropped and his lips covered hers, his lips warm, his breath scented with cinnamon and cider. He kissed her lightly, gently, the press
ure just enough to send shivers of pleasure racing up and down her spine.
She reached up, cupping his cheek, fingernails lightly playing against the rough bristles of his beard. He felt so good, his mouth knew hers and she did exactly what he said—she breathed him in, loving him.
It was impossible to be McKenna Douglas without loving Trey Sheenan.
He deepened the kiss, just enough to part her lips, the tip of his tongue tracing the softness of her lower lip and she tingled, growing hot, cold, feeling alive from the top of her head to her tippy toes.
She wanted to tell him she loved him. She wanted to tell him that she’d never stopped loving him but the words wouldn’t come. She was still too afraid of giving him the power to break her heart.
Again.
“Hey, um, Mom.” It was TJ in the doorway, and he’d stuck his head outside. “Your spaghetti sauce smells weird on the stove.”
Chapter Fourteen
‡
Sometime in the night it stopped snowing and when they all woke in the morning, the world was a sparkling landscape of frosty white beneath a brilliant blue sky.
TJ and Trey spent the morning sledding and building a snowman before coaxing McKenna out for a massive snowball fight.
It was, as TJ described it, the fight to end all fights, and they ran through the woods, down Cray Road, tramping through knee high powdery snow.
The air was cold and the chill stung McKenna’s cheeks but it was also exhilarating racing around lobbing soft snowballs while ducking behind trees.
For a half hour the snowballs flew fast and furious with TJ and Trey joining forces to ambush McKenna. But then TJ changed teams and she and TJ launched a dozen snowballs at Trey, succeeding in getting several well placed ones in his face and collar.
TJ howled with laughter as Trey shook the snow out of his shirt, and then laughed again as Trey took McKenna down, turning her into a shrieking snow angel.
And then they were all snow angels, lying on their backs beneath the intensely blue sky, moving their arms and legs to create their angel wings.
Chilled from lying in the snow, TJ jumped up and raced to get the sled for one more trip down the hill and Trey gave McKenna a hand, pulling her up to her feet.
“When he stops moving, he’s going to be soaked through and cold,” McKenna said, watching TJ wrestle with the sled.
“He’ll need a hot bath and dry clothes.”
“Then lunch, and hopefully a nap.”
Trey stretched. “A nap sounds good.” He looked down at her and there was heat in his gaze. Desire, too.
She felt herself grow warm even as her heart began to thud, harder, faster.
Awareness licked at her veins, making her belly flip flop.
It would feel amazing to be with him, naked against him, his body filling hers. But the physical would cloud her judgment. The physical would make being rational impossible.
She took a steady step backwards, even as she hoped he’d close the distance and kiss her anyway.
Kiss her again, like he had last night…
Instead he took several steps back, also, and they were now standing a yard or two apart. As if strangers.
She didn’t know why she felt a sudden urge to cry. She didn’t know why everything about this moment suddenly felt so deeply unsatisfying.
“This is the Christmas I wanted,” he said. “Thank you, Mac.”
He sounded sincere but for some reason his sincerity just made her more upset. My pleasure,” she said stiffly.
“I’ve loved every minute I’ve been able to spend with TJ.”
She ground her teeth together. “You said you wanted Christmas with your son. I’m glad you’re getting it.”
“Not just with him, with you, too.”
“Right.”
The edge of his mouth lifted. “I mean it.”
“Sure. That’s why you came to the church to sort out TJ’s custody.”
“You know it wasn’t just about TJ. I was there for you, too.”
Her chin jerked up. “It didn’t seem that way.”
“You were in a wedding gown, marrying someone else. I couldn’t exactly storm the church and take you prisoner. There were a hundred and fifty people watching. I had to be careful. Discrete.”
She exhaled hard. “You might want to stop talking. Now you’re just making me mad.”
“Why? Because I’ve finally grown up enough to realize that what I want and need might not be what you want and need?”
“I’m not sure what you’re saying.”
He clapped his black gloves, knocking off excess snow. “Let’s not do this now.”
Her heart felt as if he was about to leap out of her chest. “Do what?”
“Have this conversation. We’ve had a really fun day, and it’s been an incredible Christmas so far—”
“We absolutely do need to have this conversation now. This,” she said, jabbing her mitten finger downward, “is exactly what we need to discuss.” She stared him in the eye, fierce and furious. And scared. Terribly, terribly scared. “Are you saying you don’t want me?”
“That’s not what I’m saying.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“I’m saying….” He drew a breath and yet his expression was firm, and totally unapologetic. “TJ needs us together. I’d like us together. But I’m not sure if us being together is the best thing for you.”
She dragged air into her lungs, hating the bittersweet pain that filled her heart. She focused on the wet sheen of icicles lining the edge of the cabin roof to keep from crying or getting even more emotional. “I don’t believe you.”
His shoulders shifted. “I love you enough to want what’s best for you. I’m not sure I’m the best for you.”
“Why? What’s changed?”
“I have. I know why I love you, and I know what I want for you, and that’s for you to be happy. And peaceful. I make you happy some of the time, but together, darlin’, we’re not peaceful. I don’t make you calm and easy. With me, you worry. But I don’t want my girl scared and worrying. That’s not good for you, not good for us, and not good for our son.”
She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. And yet, hadn’t she just wondered if she could love him? If she could trust him not to hurt her? Not to break her heart again? Did she feel confident in them…or him? “I don’t know why you’re doing this now.”
“I want to protect you.”
“Protect me? Or, do you mean, protect yourself? Because my gut is saying you’re the coward. My gut is saying you don’t want to do the hard work required to make us succeed. My gut thinks you’ve decided to give up…take the easy way out. That’s what I think!”
He gazed at her a long time, eyes flashing fire, but he waited to speak until his tone was calm. Controlled. “I haven’t given up on us—I will never give up on us—but we have to be honest and do what is best for each other. Loving me is hard on you, Mac. Loving me hurts you, honey. It took me a long time to get it. Took me those four years in prison to understand what it means to hurt for someone, and baby, I hurt for you. And I hurt for hurting you and I can’t ever cause you pain like that again. I couldn’t live with myself if I did that.”
She turned away to look toward the dark blue lake with its perimeter of snow frosted trees. It was so pretty…so romantic…and yet there was nothing pretty or romantic about what Trey was saying. “You’re killing me,” she whispered, reaching up to tug her knit cap down. “You give me hope and then you just take it all away.”
“I’m not trying to hurt you. I’m trying to protect you from future pain—”
“The future isn’t here! There’s nothing here but you and me and TJ. So Sheenan, don’t you dare say you’re being practical and honest and all mature, because guess what? You’re not that practical and mature. You came to my wedding Saturday, you interrupted the service, you took TJ and then you grabbed me, stealing us from the church. You kidnapped me on my wedding day. And you didn’t
turn around, you didn’t go back, and you didn’t feel remorse. You dragged us to a diner for a wedding night dinner and somehow between Marietta and White Sulphur Springs you captured TJ’s heart, and melted mine, and sorry, but you can’t act all good and chivalrous now, because it’s too late! You’re not this great guy. You’re not selfless and you’re not altruistic and your love is demanding and fierce and you do want me. You still want me, you bastard, and don’t you ever say you don’t!”
She shoved her mitten across her face, wiping her eyes, swiping at her nose. “Don’t you ever,” she repeated thickly. “Because it’s not fair. Not when we both know what we’ve always known—we were made for each other. We are meant to be together. And that’s why we have a son together. He’s not an accident. We are not an accident. And I’m tired of living like we—this—us—is just one colossal mistake!”
She marched back to the cabin, desperate to get inside before TJ saw her cry.
Damn him.
Damn Trey.
He was the worst, most awful man in the world.
And if he was her angel, he was a fallen angel and it’d fallen on her to save his ass.
*
Trey sat in one of the chairs by the fire, cleaning the snowshoes he’d found in the shed. The wood frames still looked good but the rawhide lacings were worn and needed attention. It seemed that mice had gotten to the leather and he made a note to order new lacings once he returned to Marietta. In the meantime, he carefully rubbed the ash frames dry, grateful to have something to occupy his hands and attention.
Dinner had been on the quiet side, at least between himself and McKenna. TJ had talked up a storm and hadn’t seem to notice, and once the dishes were done, McKenna curled up with TJ on the little couch, making up stories and asking TJ what he thought Santa Claus was doing right now.
She was still mad at him, still not talking to him, while showering TJ with hugs and kisses.
He didn’t mind McKenna showering TJ with love. McKenna should be an affectionate Mom. She should tell stories and play and be fun.
But Trey was having a hard time being shut out from the fun. He struggled with McKenna punishing him for being a bad guy, when in this instance, he was the good guy.