Cowboy Christmas Rescue

by Beth Cornelison

  He noticed Kara’s Christmas tree in the corner of the living room and strolled over to plug in the lights. He admired the shimmer of colored lights and shiny baubles for a moment. He’d spent so much time at the office since taking the interim position as sheriff, he hadn’t seen any point in putting up any kind of holiday decor.

  He heard the shower turn on, and he went back out to his truck to get his laptop. As much as he wanted a nap, he had a job to do, and he knew he wouldn’t sleep until he put a few more pieces of the case together. After returning with his computer, he sat on her couch and turned the laptop on. His mind drifted while he waited for the start-up to complete and all his programs to load.

  His gaze returned to the closed bathroom door, and his conscience tweaked him. For someone who wanted to smooth things over with his ex-girlfriend, he sure had been testy with her at times today. Shaking his head, he opened a file to read but only made it a few pages into the document before the sound of quiet sobs filtered down the hall from the shower.

  Brady’s heart clenched, and he shoved off the sofa. He reached the bathroom in a few long strides and didn’t bother knocking as he charged in.

  “Kara?” He heard a gasp and a loud sniff.

  “I’m okay.”

  “Can I do anything?”

  “No.”

  He sighed and dropped his chin to his chest. “Look...we’ve both been under stress today. With everything that’s happened and being tired and cold and hungry... I know I’ve said some things I shouldn’t have. I was rude at times and...”

  The water cut off, and the only sound in the room was the slow drip from the bathtub spigot.

  “Well, I...just wanted to say I’m sorry,” he finished, compunction squeezing his chest.

  She said nothing for a few seconds, then pulled the edge of the shower curtain back enough to peek around it. “Will you hand me the towel on the hook behind you?”

  Brady turned and found the fluffy blue towel she meant and handed it to her. She let go of the shower curtain in order to take it, and he caught a tantalizing glimpse of her, naked, before she wrapped the towel around her.

  His libido kicked in hard, and he felt the hot rush of blood to his groin. She looked just the way he remembered—the mole by her navel, the lush curves of her hips and breasts. And the small white line of a healed gash above her collarbone where she’d cut herself on a sharp edge of a pen gate at a rodeo as she’d escaped a charging bull last year.

  He shuddered, remembering the icy fear that had filled him when he saw her lying on the ambulance stretcher, bleeding. He’d thought the worst, pictured a goring, until he’d reached her, and she’d laughed at his grave expression. “I just need a few stitches and a tetanus shot, tough guy.”

  She stepped out of the shower, one hand propped on the wall for balance. Hands trembling, she tucked the corner of her towel in over her breast to secure the wrap before raising her eyes to him. Her expression was weary and sad, and Brady’s chest contracted in protectiveness and sympathy.

  “I’m sorry, too. I’ve been difficult today, and my only defense is that...” She closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip as if trying not to cry again. Which wasn’t working. The bridge of her nose crumpled and fat tears leaked out the sides of her eyes.

  Without hesitation, he stepped closer and pulled her against him, hugging her firmly to his chest. The delicate scent of her shampoo teased his senses, and the throb of desire pumping through him beat harder.

  “I’m sorry, babe,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the golden hair slicked to her scalp.

  “You said that already,” Kara muttered. Her face was buried in the hollow beneath his throat, her breath warming him through the thin fabric of his T-shirt.

  “I know.” He pushed her to arm’s length and met her gaze. “But an apology is something that should be said face-to-face, not through a shower curtain.” He stared into the whiskey-brown eyes he’d missed so much and couldn’t stand the thought that she was no longer in his life.

  Bowing his head, he slanted his mouth over hers and drew deeply on her lips. Her body tensed slightly at first, but soon she’d relaxed against him, her lips moving in rhythm with his. Heat filled him, along with a spark of hope that he’d finally chipped through the wall she’d erected between them. If the disaster today led to a reconciliation between them, he’d have the best Christmas present he could have ever asked for.

  But all too soon, Kara’s gripped shifted, and she pushed against him, shaking her head. “No...stop. I can’t...do this.” She bowed her head, and her shoulders shook gently as she started to cry again. “Nothing’s changed, Brady. We can’t—”

  Her voice cracked, and when she tried to pull away, he firmed his grip and groaned. “Kara, I’m sorry. Not just for today, but for whatever I did that drove you away. I don’t understand what I did, but I want to make up for it. Give me a second chance.”

  When she didn’t respond, he tipped her chin back up and swiped the moisture from her cheeks with thumbs. Ducking his head, he kissed her again, softly, once. Twice. “We still have something special, something worth fighting for. Can’t we at least talk?”

  She lifted one eyebrow. “Will you listen to me?”

  Her request seemed odd...and kind of redundant. Wasn’t listening implied when one talked things out with a lover? He knitted his brow and cocked his head, trying to guess what was behind her request.

  Immediately she gave an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes.

  “Of course I’ll listen,” he promised before she could turn away.

  She stilled and narrowed a dubious look on him. “Promise?”

  “I promise.”

  Her expression brightened, and he took this as a good sign. A very good sign. More progress than he’d made with her in almost a year.

  She lifted a corner of her mouth and gave a small nod. “’Kay.”

  He gave her a broad grin and hauled her back into his arms for a hug. She swayed a bit as he sealed the deal with a kiss. “But first...”

  Bending, he scooped her up, cradling her against his chest.

  Though she wilted against him, she grunted a protest. “Brady—”

  “At ease, babe. Just taking you to your bed. You’re about to drop.” He pivoted in the small bathroom, angling his body sideways to get out the door. But as he navigated the turn to her room, he heard a thump.

  “Ow,” she muttered. “Foot, meet door frame.”

  He winced. “Sorry. Guess you’re not the only one who’s a little too tired for their own good.”

  She patted his chest and chuckled. “I’ll live.”

  “Still...” He set her down on her unmade bed and lifted a foot to examine. “Let me see it.”

  She flopped back on the pillows and giggled harder. “I said, I’ll live.” She mumbled something about surviving a sniper and floodwater, and her laughter swelled. The sound was sweet music to his ears. She truly had a joyous, infectious laugh, one of many things he’d missed about her.

  He smiled at her but persisted in checking her foot. And still she laughed.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked, unable to contain his own chuckle in light of her chortling fit.

  She wiped at her eyes and shook her head. “I have no idea!” Which only made her laugh harder.

  He joined her in peals of laughter, enjoying the stress release after the tragic and trying day. Savoring the moment of levity with her. God, he’d missed this. Missed her sense of humor, her warmth, the optimistic way she made him feel even after a bad day.

  He pulled the covers over her and kissed her forehead. “Good night, Princess Punchy.”

  She sobered a little as he started for the door and patted the other side of the bed. “You’re not staying?”

  “Naw. I’ve got work to do.”

  She pushed up on her elbows. “But you’re bound to be as tired as I am.”

  He shrugged and stretched. “Little bit, yeah. But duty calls. If you need anything, I’
ll be in the living room.”

  With that he backed out of her room, flipping off the light. He had a sniper to catch.

  Chapter 9

  Kara padded into her living room late the next morning, rolling her shoulders and finger combing her hair from her face. Even though she expected to find Brady there, her heartbeat stumbled a bit when she found him asleep on her couch.

  He sat with his head lolled at a slight angle against the cushioned back of the sofa, his laptop open on his legs. One hand rested on the edge of the keyboard, and one hand had slipped to the couch at his side. The computer screen had gone to screen saver mode and had rolling images of colorful ribbons parading at random across black.

  Kara tiptoed over to him and carefully lifted the computer from his lap.

  Brady jerked awake as soon as the weight left his legs. He gave her a startled and somewhat confused look before rubbing his eyes and sitting up straighter.

  “Good morning.” She gave him a smile.

  With a grunt, Brady rubbed his face and cast a look around the room. “What time is it?”

  She glanced behind her to her parents’ grandfather clock, which stood sentinel near the end of the hallway. “About ten forty-five.”

  His eyes widened, and he shot a glance to the clock himself. “Crud.”

  “Didn’t mean to sleep that long?”

  He pulled his laptop back onto his legs and tapped a key to wake the screen. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep at all.”

  Kara snorted and headed for the kitchen. “You’re not superhuman, Brady. Everyone needs sleep. Even sheriffs. Can I tempt you with some coffee?”

  “Definitely.” He continued tapping at his computer and called to her without looking up from the screen. “How did you sleep?”

  “You have to ask? I was all but unconscious until ten minutes ago.” Kara walked into her laundry room and turned on the light.

  Jerry sat up in his laundry basket bed and yawned.

  “Morning, fella. You hungry?”

  He meowed his loud Siamese yowl and hopped out of his bed and to the floor.

  Kara reached down to scratch his head, and Jerry rubbed against her shin. “Sorry I’m late this morning,” she told the cat. “You wouldn’t believe the night I had.”

  “Meow!”

  “I know, right?” She took the bag of cat food from her pantry shelf and went to his bowl. The dish was already mostly full. She shot a look toward the living room. “Brady, did you feed Jerry this morning?”

  “Yeah. He was hollering about it at sunrise, and I was afraid he’d wake you, so...”

  She looked at Jerry who sat at her feet, blinking at her groggily. “Well, then, Jerry. I hope you told Brady thank you.”

  “Meow!”

  “You’re welcome, Jerry,” Brady called.

  Jerry followed her as she made her way to the kitchen cabinet to start the coffee. He started up a litany of discordant meows and yowls as he wove around her legs and paced the floor.

  “Any news on the case?” She pulled out a coffee filter and began setting up her brewer. “They find Cobb yet?”

  In the next room, Brady muttered another curse word, drawing her attention. He was staring at his cell phone, swiping through screens. If Brady was cussing, the news couldn’t be good. “What is it? What happened?”

  He glanced up and shook his head. “Nothing. I slept through a text from Nate, but apparently he reached Wilhite, so...”

  Her gut clenched. “Nate? About what? His father? April? The baby?”

  Brady waved her off. “Nothing for you to worry about.”

  With that, he bent his head over his phone again, texting someone. Dismissing her.

  Anger spiked from deep inside her. She slapped the counter so hard her whole arm ached, and a startled Jerry skittered out of the kitchen for his bed.

  “Damn it, Brady! Don’t do that!”

  Frowning, he looked up from his phone. “Don’t do what?”

  She stomped back into the living room and aimed a finger at him. “Don’t brush me off like I don’t matter! Nate and April are my friends, too. If something has happened to them, I want to know about it.”

  He leveled his shoulders. “You were asleep, and it’s nothing you needed added to your plate of concerns.”

  She tensed her fists and growled. “That’s not the point! If we’re going to have any kind of future, you can’t keep blowing me off and ignoring my feelings like they don’t matter!”

  He jerked backward as if she’d shoved him, blinking, his expression stunned.

  For a few seconds he said nothing. Then his cheek twitched in a half smile.

  A smile? He thought this was funny?

  Irritated even further, she was about to launch into him again, when he said, “Then you have considered us having a future. That’s progress.”

  She scoffed her incredulity. “That’s what you heard me say?”

  He rubbed a hand over his face. “Oh, I heard the nonsense about me ignoring your feelings, but I chose to focus on the positive. If you see even the possibility of a future for us—”

  “Not if you think my feelings are nonsense!” She felt her body shaking from the inside out. Hurt and frustration and fury knotted in her core and pounded in her veins.

  He shoved to his feet and squared off with her. “I didn’t say your feelings were nonsense. You’re twisting my words!” He took a breath, and in a calmer tone, he said, “I love you, Kara. Deeply. How can you question that? Especially after yesterday.”

  She plowed both hands through her hair. Tears pricked her eyes. “I know you love me. That’s not the issue. It’s not about how you feel. It’s about how I feel.”

  His brow furrowed. “Are you saying you don’t love me?”

  “Still not the point, Brady! Listen to me! The issue is you don’t respect my feelings.”

  “What? That’s craz—” He cut himself off, his expression saying he’d finally heard himself.

  Her whole body wilted, and she gave him a sad smile. “I need you to hear me. Really hear me. My feelings and opinions and fears are what they are, whether you agree with them or not. I need to know that you have heard me when I tell you what’s in my heart and soul, and that even if you don’t share my view, that you’ve valued my thoughts. That you’ve considered my feelings and that we have a true partnership. That’s the only way we can ever build a future, Brady. With respect for each other. With openness and honesty and consideration of each other’s opinions and fears and feelings.”

  He reached for her, his eyes softening. “I thought we had that. I—” With the back of his hand, he stroked her cheek, then cupped her chin. “Tell me what you need. What can I do to fix this?”

  She drew a slow breath in. “Hear me out. Let me talk, and try to understand where I am, who I am.”

  He nodded, his grip tightening on her and his gaze bright and eager. “All right. I’m listening.”

  * * *

  After their coffee had brewed and they’d each had a bite of breakfast at Kara’s request—empty stomachs didn’t lend themselves to productive conversations, she claimed—they settled on her couch with steaming mugs and the whole day before them. Nothing, barring murder and colossal mayhem, was more important today than figuring out what had sent Kara running months ago. Working out their differences and getting their relationship back on the right path was job one, Priority A for Brady.

  Listen, she’d said. Okay. He could do that.

  “All right.” He turned up a palm, inviting her to speak first. “The floor is yours.”

  She threaded her fingers through her hair and exhaled. “Wow. Where do I begin?”

  “You could start with why you left me. Why did my taking the job as sheriff send you running?”

  “Because of my dad. My mom and I lived with the constant fear of him not coming back from work. Any day could be the day that he was injured or killed in the line of duty. Do you have any idea how exhausting, how stressful that kind of
worry is?”

  “So this is about your worry that I’ll be injured in the line of duty?”

  She hesitated. “Well, yes...”

  He caught himself before he groaned his dismissal of that concern. Listen to her, he reminded himself. There has to be more to it than that.

  Kara was winding the tassels from a throw quilt around her fingers. “And no.”

  With effort, Brady swallowed the impulse to direct the conversation. This wasn’t an interrogation of a suspect. He had to give Kara the space, the time and the freedom to explain things in her own time and her own way.

  Dropping the quilt fringe, she reached for her coffee and took a fortifying gulp. Then, clinging to the mug with a white-knuckle grip, she began quietly, “The day my father died, we had been in town picking up a few groceries for Mom. She’d wanted to make apple fritters for our Sunday breakfast, but needed fresh apples and cinnamon. I remember it was a rainy day, one of many we’d had in recent weeks. The river through town was full and flowing fast. When we got to the river bridge, Dad spotted the lady right away. She was standing on the railing looking out over the water. Dad stopped the car and got out. He told me to stay put, which was easy enough to do because I didn’t want to get wet in the rain.”

  Brady tensed, and a wave of dread washed through him. “Wait a minute. You mean, you were with your dad when he died?”

  She met his eyes and nodded. The stark grief in her eyes sucker punched him. How had he not known this? He knew her father had drowned, but she’d never told him she was there. “Kara—”

  “As he walked toward the lady, she yelled at him to stay back. He tried to calm her down, to talk her out of jumping, but she was really worked up, screaming and crying and not making sense. When he made a move toward her, she climbed over the railing. This was before everyone had cell phones, or I would’ve been calling 911 right then and there. Next thing I know she was gone, and Dad was running to the railing, looking down. At that point, I couldn’t stay in the car any longer. I knew what he meant to do, and I knew how dangerous it was.”