by Jane Porter
She glanced behind her, over at TJ who’d returned to playing with his new Star Wars Lego figurines, delighted by the Storm Troopers. “Aren’t they going to think it’s strange, you showing up with us on Christmas when they know less than a week ago I was supposed to marry Lawrence?”
“I think they’d think it was strange if I didn’t show up with you and TJ. I’m pretty sure they’re rooting for us, hoping we can work it out.”
“But they’re not going to expect a big formal announcement, are they? I mean, you and I are still trying to figure it out.”
He smiled and lightly rubbed at the worry line between her brows. “I can assure you there’s no pressure in that direction. I think you know we Sheenans tend to operate under a Hope-for-the-best-but-prepare-for-the-worst scenario.”
She made a face. “Or at least they do with you.”
“As they should,” he teased.
She glanced out the window at the blue sky and sparkling drifts of powdery white snow with the dark blue of the lake shimmering in the background before letting her gaze skim the interior of the cabin. “You think we can take down the tree and empty the cupboards and strip all the beds in an hour?” Her nose wrinkled. “It doesn’t sound like a festive way to spend the morning.”
“Let’s just unplug the tree and toss out the perishables and then I’ll just come back after New Year’s with the new generator and get that installed and deal with everything else.”
“That’s a lot of work for one person.”
Trey’s laughter rumbled from his chest. “Darlin’, I’ve just spent four years at Deer Lodge. Tidying up a cabin and taking a tree down is not hard work. Besides, I like it here, and I’d love to get that generator replaced so we can get all the Sheenans here and enjoy it as a family.”
*
McKenna moved as much of the food from the refrigerator to the freezer and tossed what wouldn’t last a week or two and then turned her attention to making the beds since they weren’t going to strip the sheets.
Trey unplugged the tree, put out the fire, and turned off the heater before crouching next to TJ to help him gather up the new toys and put them in TJ’s new black and green Mine Craft backpack. McKenna smiled as TJ made decisions about which pockets would get which toys—some for the Legos, some for the miniature tin soldiers, and some for the Christmas taffy and treats.
“I wish we didn’t have to go,” he said mournfully, as the new suitcase, filled with all their new clothes, was carried out to the truck.
“We’ll be back,” Trey said, rifling TJ’s dark hair. “Not just this winter, but in the spring and summer. We’ll get a boat and go out on the lake. We can fish and have camp fires and make s’mores. It’ll be fun.”
McKenna understood TJ’s wistfulness. She had mixed feelings about leaving, too. These past few days had felt special…magical…and she wasn’t sure she was ready to leave the safety and quiet of the cabin at Cherry Lake for ‘real life’ in Marietta.
Back in Marietta they’d get drawn into work and school and be subjected to everyone’s opinions.
She didn’t want everyone’s opinion. She didn’t want to be lectured or fussed over, or have well meaning family and friends give her ‘advice’. She didn’t want the gossip, either, and there would be plenty of gossip.
It wasn’t that she couldn’t handle the gossip—good grief, she’d been surrounded by it for most of her life—but she dreaded having TJ exposed to it. And she hated knowing that Trey would be at the center of it.
That bad Trey Sheenan was back…
Trey was home and already causing trouble…
He climbed the steps of the cabin and stood before her, arms crossed over his broad chest. “What’s wrong?”
She managed a smile. “Nothing. Why?”
“Mac, I know you, babe. I know your face. I know your sighs. I know when something is on your mind. What is it? Don’t want to do Christmas with my family? We don’t have to—”
“This isn’t about your family. I like your family, and I know they like me, and absolutely adore TJ…” She looked up into his face, searching his eyes, not wanting secrets between them but also unwilling to hurt him. “It’s about you. I’m worried what people will say about you.” She swallowed hard. “And me, us. But mostly, about you. They’ve never been kind to you—”
“Because I’ve never earned their respect,” he interrupted flatly. “I’m not going back to Marietta expecting anyone to be a fan, or a friend. I don’t need anyone’s approval. But I hope their criticism doesn’t extend to TJ. He might have my name, but he’s not me. He’s his own little person and a really good little person.” His voice cracked and he looked away, jaw tightening and flexing as his gaze fell on TJ who was poking holes in the snow with a stick. “I don’t mind if they hit me, and hate me. But they have to leave him alone.”
McKenna fought tears as she wrapped her arms around Trey and hugged him, hard, harder. “He’s a tough little boy. He’s got the best of both of us, and a big family that will always have his back…the Sheenans and the Douglasses, two of the oldest, strongest families in Crawford County. You can’t ask for more than that.”
*
In the truck as they pulled away, McKenna turned to get a last glance at the cabin. It was a true cabin, small and sturdy and simple, without luxurious bells and whistles, which was why it was so perfect.
They’d had no TV or computer games. Just Christmas carols on the radio, and the one NPR personality that read the stories on Christmas Eve.
It was an old fashioned Christmas, small and cozy with just the right amount of presents and surprises and holiday cheer.
It’d be easy to stay here and hide from life in Marietta, but their life was in Marietta and it had to be faced, sooner or later.
Maybe it was better it was happening sooner.
Maybe the best thing was just to face the haters and critics head on, and work their way through it.
Eventually the gossip would die down. Eventually the town would find someone new, or something else shocking, to whisper about.
She’d be glad when they did. Not that she wished trouble or small town gossip on anyone.
With the recent heavy snow fall Highway 83 would be too treacherous, if the mountain pass was even open, so Trey turned left onto 93, heading for Polson, and then they’d hit I-90 which would lead them straight to Bozeman and on to the junction of Highway 89.
But even the road along the lake was slick, and she was glad it was Trey at the wheel. He was far better with ice than she.
They were just a few miles from the cabin when they rounded a corner and deep tire marks sliced sideways through snow and ice, a diagonal slash across the road that stretched all the way to the embankment overlooking the lake. The skid of the tires looked perfectly fresh. The accident must have just happened.
“Oh no,” McKenna said, leaning forward. “Look,” she added, pointing to the group forming at the lake.
Trey pulled over, shifted into park and jumped out. McKenna told TJ to stay put and jumped out, too.
A small white car was parked haphazardly on the side of the road, and a motorcycle stood abandoned there as well.
People were on phones. Someone else was shouting for rope.
“The woman lost control and her car went into the lake,” one of the female bystanders cried into her phone, almost hysterical. “Hurry! She had a baby in her car. They’re under water.”
People were shouting, cars continued to pull over. It was pure chaos. Trey glanced at McKenna for a split second—if that—but the Trey she knew was gone. The other Trey was here. The one who shut down emotions, the one who deadened feelings. The impulsive, reckless devil-take-all Trey.
Her heart fell. “Trey!”
But he was already gone, skidding down the icy embankment to the water’s edge. A man stood next to the lake, his clothing soaked to his waist, dripping icy water onto the packed snow. “I couldn’t get to her, man. I can’t even see the car. The wa
ter is freezing and dark.”
“How many people in the car?” Trey asked, stripping off his heavy jacket.
“Two, three. A lady and a baby. Don’t know if there was more, but I saw the car seat. There was a car seat. I was right behind her when she swerved and went in.”
Trey dove in.
*
There were moments engraved in one’s memory, moments that became memories, both wonderful and horrifying.
The time Trey spent underwater was endless. The actual time could have been seconds, minutes, but it felt like a lifetime.
McKenna saw a lifetime of memories and moments with him. In high school. After school. Working. Loving. Fighting. Conceiving TJ. Struggling. Loving. Missing. Suffering.
Life with Trey could be difficult, but life without him was impossible.
Life without him wasn’t like living at all.
And this—this thing he was doing—was exactly what she feared most. She hated the reckless dangerous Trey. Hated that he had so little regard for his own life. Hated that he could just abandon her and TJ without a second thought…second glance…
Hated that the one person she needed most, didn’t need her the same way.
If he loved them, he wouldn’t jeopardize his family…
But in the very same moment she knew that he did what he did, took these incredible risks, because he had heart.
His strength was a gift.
His courage set him apart.
He was brave and foolhardy, but weren’t all protectors that way?
In that moment where she thought she’d lost him forever, swallowed by the icy cold lake, she understood him best, and what happened that day at the Wolf Den.
A man was putting his fist in a woman’s face.
A girl disappeared in a fast-flowing river, and no one realized it was serious until too late.
A car went into a freezing lake with a mother and child inside.
Trey couldn’t stand idly by. Trey couldn’t look the other way. Trey was not a bystander, and he’d never do nothing if he could do something.
Even if it meant he lost everything he loved.
He risked all, because he knew what it was to love.
And then he was up, dragging a woman to the surface. People rushed forward to take the woman and then Trey was gone again, diving back under.
*
Help came rushing in, in the form of a helicopter from Kalispell Regional Medical Center, the helicopter landing on the closed highway, sheriffs and fire trucks now blocking the road to keep the area clear.
McKenna stood with TJ, shivering uncontrollably while the helicopter slowly rose, blades whirring, blowing snow as the helicopter airlifted the mother, the baby and Trey out together. The paramedics had told McKenna she’d have to follow in the truck as there was no room in the chopper, and she understood, but at the same time she was shaking so badly she couldn’t drive quite yet.
Her emotions had run the gamut from fear to joy, and she felt worked…wrecked.
Trey surfacing the second time, with the toddler, had been beyond wonderful. The crowd lining the road had cheered. But then Trey lost consciousness and the local fire station medics rushed in and hauled him out of the water, and seeing Trey carried from the water, head hanging, body limp had been terrifying.
She’d thought they’d lost him.
She thought she’d lost him.
For a second, she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t get air. For a second, it felt like her heart had stopped.
“Do you want to use that phone now?” One of the ladies on the side of the road asked, holding her cell phone to McKenna.
McKenna stared at her blankly.
“You said you didn’t have a phone, and you needed to make a call?” The woman’s reminder was gentle. But then, people had been so kind, moved by Trey’s actions, impressed by his courage and selflessness.
McKenna’s hand shook as she punched in Paige’s number. Thankfully Paige answered. “Merry Christmas, McKenna! Where are you? How are you? How’s—”
“There’s been an accident,” McKenna choked, her throat constricting. “I’m over at Flathead Lake. I’ve been staying at the Sheenan family cabin outside Cherry Lake. Trey’s hurt. He’s being airlifted to the Kalispell hospital right now. Can you please alert his family? If Troy’s not at the Graff, he’ll probably be at Brock and Harley’s.”
“I’m on it.”
“Thank you.”
“Are you okay?”
McKenna reached up to touch the angel hanging from her neck. “Only if he is.”
“He will be, McKenna. He’s strong. He’s Trey.”
“I’m trying to remember that.”
Chapter Sixteen
‡
Trey woke up slowly, thoughts thick and tangled, his body heavy and sore. Had he been drinking? Had he been fighting?
He glanced around. Everything was beige and bland. Sterile.
He tried to sit up but something tugged in his forearm. He reached over, fingers skimming the tape and tubing. His confusion increased.
Where was he, and what the hell was going on?
Where was McKenna? And TJ? Why weren’t they here—where had he left them? Lost them?
And then pictures flashed, and it started to come back to him: the crowd at the lake, the tire marks that led from the road to the lake, and someone screaming about a lady and her kids.
He didn’t remember pulling over. He didn’t remember jumping out. He did remember looking at McKenna, briefly. He didn’t remember what she said, or if she said anything, but he saw her eyes, saw her terror.
But he must have gone into the lake, because he remembered it was cold, shockingly cold, like a knife plunging into his lungs.
But he swam down. He swam for the submerged car and he dragged a lady up, and out. And then numb, he went down again.
It wasn’t that dark down below, though, just terribly cold, and he shoved into the back of the car, wrestled with the buckles and harness on a car seat. The child wasn’t moving. The child was still but Trey wouldn’t think about that. He wouldn’t think about anything but getting the child out, and then up.
Up.
Up.
Sunlight. Air.
“Hey, Baby.” A quiet voice sounded at his side. Hands touched him, one hand on his arm, the other on his chest. “You’re awake.” And then McKenna was leaning over him, kissing his forehead and then his cheek. “Merry Christmas.”
He struggled to focus on her face, and then she was clear, and beautiful, so very very beautiful. “Where’s TJ?”
“With Troy.”
“Troy’s here?”
“Everybody’s here. Well, everybody but Cormac, but Dillon said he might be coming.”
“Why?”
“To spend Christmas together. As a family.”
He was silent for awhile, processing, even as he felt the icy cold water all over again, remembered the bone chilling shock of it. “The baby in the car seat…is he…did he…?”
“She. She’s a twenty-two month old girl, and she’s been airlifted to Missoula, but from all reports, she’s stable and the doctors are predicting a full recovery.”
“Are you just saying that?”
“No. You can ask Brock or Troy. They’ve talked to the medical team at the Children’s Hospital. You saved her. You saved both of them, the mother and the daughter.” McKenna’s eyes filled with tears. “You are a hero.”
“Not a hero. Never been a hero—”
“You’ve always been my hero, even if you don’t keep your armor all shiny and silver.” She leaned over and kissed him carefully. “But you did scare me, babe. I thought I lost you.”
He reached up and caught one of her tears. “Is that why you’re crying?”
“I’m crying because I’m lucky. I’m blessed. You’re a good man. You’re tough and strong…absolutely fearless.”
“Oh, Mac, not fearless. I was terrified.”
“But you went after them
anyway. There were others standing there. That man was standing there. They didn’t go in. They were waiting for help to arrive.”
“There was no time,” Trey said. “I had to do it. Someone had to do it.”
Her tears kept falling, and he couldn’t stop them. His chest tightened, his heart hurting because he’d hurt her again. “I scared you,” he whispered.
“You did,” she agreed, drawing a rough breath. “And I could have lost you. For a while there, I wondered if we had. But I suddenly understood you, while you were down there, I suddenly understood why I love you. It’s because you are a protector. And the world needs tough men, risk-taking men, men like you. And I hope and pray that when TJ grows up, he’ll end up just like you. Flawed but perfect. Trey Sheenan, you have no idea how much I love you.”
*
Trey was released late afternoon the next day from the Medical Center in Kalispell. McKenna was there to pick him up in Troy’s big black SUV as Troy had insisted it was safer and more comfortable than Trey’s old truck.
It was almost dark by the time they reached Cherry Lake and the drive up Cray Road still had lots of snow but the parking area by the cabin had been shoveled clear. “Who did this?” Trey asked.
“Your brothers,” she answered, pulling into an empty spot and shifting into park.
“Why? Did they think I was coming home in a wheelchair?”
“I think they needed something to do.” She turned off the engine and gave him a level look. “They were worried sick about you.”
“Sounds like I did a good job of ruining Christmas.”
“Hardly. Your brothers are like big kids. They’ve been having the time of their life, playing with the real kids.” She saw his expression and added. “Mack and Molly are awesome with TJ, very sweet, incredibly patient. It’s been good for everyone to be here as a family—”
“Where’s everyone sleeping?”
“Dillon’s on the couch. Brock, Harley and the twins are in the loft. Troy and Taylor have taken the guest room with the twin beds, and TJ and I are in the master bedroom, waiting for you to return.”