Cowboy Christmas Rescue

by Beth Cornelison

  Tears sparkled in her eyes, and acid puddled in Brady’s gut. He knew what was coming and was helpless to stop it. He knew the pain it had cost Kara and was at a loss how to heal it.

  He slid closer to her on the couch and stroked her cheek. She shivered when he touched her, then closed her eyes and continued.

  “I yelled for him to stop, but he just ordered me back to the car, took off his shoes and dove in after her. I think I screamed. I’m not really sure. I just remember feeling kinda numb and completely terrified.”

  Her teary eyes had a faraway look, and she stared at the wall where her father’s picture hung. She swallowed hard and whispered, “I ran to the railing and looked for him. The water was dark and muddy. Swirling with eddies and full of debris. I saw him swimming, fighting the current, and for a while, it looked like he was going to save her. But when he reached her, she fought him. They both went under, and...I remember feeling my heart sink with them.”

  A tear broke free from her lashes, and the sight of that lone drop on her cheek squeezed his heart like a fist.

  “He came up again a couple times, but every time he went back under. And every time he went under, a little piece of me died with him. I’ve never felt so helpless in my whole life. I thought about jumping in after him, the way he had to try to save the lady...”

  Brady winced, hearing this. Even though he could understand a young Kara’s inclination to help her father, had she gone in the water, her fate would likely have been the same as her dad’s. He inched closer to her, coaxing her into his arms. His embrace seemed to break the dam holding back the full flood of her grief. She buried her face in his shirt, and her shoulders shook as she quietly sobbed.

  “I couldn’t drive yet and... I h-had no way to call anyone,” she said and sniffed, “so I just stood there in the rain, in shock, shouting for my dad to answer me, but...”

  “Oh, babe, how awful.” He squeezed her more tightly, at a loss for words. He couldn’t imagine the heartache and trauma she’d suffered, watching her father drown. A twinge of something—guilt, disappointment, frustration—wound through him, boring a hole in his soul. How had he not known the terrible secret she’d been keeping all these years? Had she not trusted him?

  “I don’t know how long it took before a car came along and helped me. Maybe twenty minutes? An hour? It felt like forever.” She raised damp eyes to him, and his heart wrenched for her.

  If he could absorb her pain, obliterate the dark shadows haunting her expression, he would in a heartbeat, no matter the cost. He framed her face between his hands and kissed her forehead. “That’s terrible, Kara. I’m sorry. I—” He furrowed his brow and shook his head in disbelief. “Why did you never tell me this before?”

  She laughed without humor. “I’ve never told anyone before. Not since that night. I told Mom and the police, then never spoke of it again.”

  He cocked an eyebrow, surprised at this revelation. “Not even to a trauma counselor? Didn’t your mother—”

  Her scoff cut him off. “My mother had enough to deal with being a single parent, handling her own grief and going back to work to support us. I wasn’t going to burden her with what I was dealing with.”

  “So you suffered in silence?”

  “So to speak.”

  “And...what were you dealing with?”

  She sighed and leaned into his chest again. “Nightmares. An irrational fear of water. Occasional flashbacks thanks to triggers like rainstorms. Or the smell of cinnamon and apple.”

  Brady’s chest froze, and he saw the day’s events in a new light. “Or flash floods when your ex-boyfriend gets swept up against a cottonwood?”

  Her fingers curled into the flesh of his arms, and he felt the shiver that raced through her.

  “Yeah,” she whispered, her voice a mere breath. “That was hard. I—I was...terrified.”

  “But you came in after me, just like your dad went in after that woman.” He hugged her more tightly, pride and gratitude and awe swelling in his heart. “You saved me. You were understandably scared, but you saved me.” Brady kissed the top of her head, his own eyes burning with tears. “You are the bravest woman I know, Kara. What you did—”

  “Brave?” She snorted her disagreement. “I just said I was terrified. If it hadn’t been you, I don’t know if I could have done what I did.”

  “Yes, you would have. Because you are your father’s daughter. Fear doesn’t negate the courage behind the action. In fact, it makes it all the more impressive. You’d have been crazy not to have been scared.”

  Another indelicate snort and wry chuckle. “And here I thought it was going in the flash flood that made me crazy.”

  He stroked her sleep-mussed hair, and thought again about her reply. “What do you mean, if it hadn’t been me?”

  She tensed in his arms and didn’t answer for a moment.

  “Kara?”

  “Of course I went in after you. You’re...you. I...” She hiccupped a sob. “I couldn’t imagine life without you. I’ve already lost so much. If you died—”

  His heart warmed, while sympathy for her losses twisted in his gut. But she’d all but said she still wanted him in her life, and that gave him hope.

  * * *

  Kara levered back from Brady’s embrace and met his eyes. Reliving the day her father had died and the harrowing experience of going into the water to save Brady had left her mentally exhausted. “So back to your original question...why did I leave you?”

  His gaze sharpened, and the muscles in his jaw flexed as he clenched his teeth.

  “I’ve lived the horror of losing someone I love to the duty that comes with the badge. I’ve seen my mother live under the strain of waiting for that call in the middle of the night and then grieving when that call did come. My dad was just going to the grocery store that day in June, but he had a duty because of his badge that got him killed. Mom went through hell, and that’s not a life I want, Brady.”

  “So you’re saying I have to choose? My job or you?” His tone told her how unjust he saw that ultimatum. And she agreed.

  “No, Brady. As hard as it would be to live like that, I would never put you in that position. That wouldn’t be fair.”

  He tilted his head, the bridge of his nose denting in confusion. “Then what is the reason?”

  She sucked in a cleansing breath. Blew it out from puffed cheeks. “When I tried to explain all this to you before, how hard it would be for me, how painful the memory of my dad’s death was, you dismissed my feelings as ‘unwarranted.’ ‘This is Rusted Spur,’ you said, ‘not Dallas.’”

  She pitched her voice lower as she quoted his arguments from months earlier. “‘Being sheriff here means stolen chickens and parking tickets, not murder and mayhem.’” She sent him a level gaze. “I could point out that today proved that theory wrong—a sniper showed up in Rusted Spur, and you were in the thick of it—but that’s not my point either. It’s not about who’s right or wrong about the inherent danger of the job.”

  “Okaaay...” The furrow in his brow deepened. “So why—”

  “Because you didn’t listen to me.” She clapped a hand to her chest to emphasize her point. “I was hurting because of my dad and scared for you, and when I tried to tell you, when you had the chance to weigh my feelings in the decision whether to take the interim sheriff position or not, you made me feel unimportant. You dismissed my worry as baseless without knowing the whole story. We should have had this conversation—” she jabbed a finger in her palm “—back then. But anytime I tried, I got the same eye roll and ‘Don’t be silly. You don’t need to worry’ brush-off.”

  He opened his mouth as if to deny it, then frowned and scrubbed a hand over his jaw.

  “My feelings are what they are, Brady. They are real, they are important, and they should matter to you.”

  His face fell. “They do, babe.”

  “Even if you don’t agree with my opinions, even if you think my fears are unwarranted, I need to
know that you can at least respect how I feel and will listen to me, will consider my feelings, when I tell you what’s in my heart. I need to know I matter to you. In all ways.”

  Brady stared at her, looking a bit stunned.

  “I left because too often I felt my thoughts and feelings and opinions were being dismissed. Trivialized.”

  With an exhale that seemed to deflate him, Brady closed his eyes and shook his head. “I had no idea I was doing that. I’m so sorry, Kara. I never meant...geez.” When he raised his gaze to her again, guilt and apology filled his eyes. “Can you forgive me?”

  She took his hand in hers and laced her fingers with his. “You promise to listen to me, like you are now, from now on? I’m not saying I’ll always get my way, but I want to know I’ve been heard.”

  He narrowed a stern look on her. “I’ll make that promise if you’ll promise me something in return.”

  Surprise kicked her pulse up a notch. A conditional promise? Kara cocked her head, curious and a bit leery. “Promise you what?”

  Chapter 10

  Brady took both of her hands in his, his gaze hard and piercing. “No more running away.”

  She drew her head back, her spine stiffening. “Pardon?”

  “We were apart, almost lost what we have together, because you ran from me. Rather than sit down and force me to have this conversation, you avoided me.”

  Kara wished she could deny his claim, but he spoke the truth. After a brief hesitation, a moment of self-recrimination, she nodded. “You’re right. I avoided you because being around you hurt. I missed you so much.”

  His face crumpled in confusion. “And all those months, I just wanted to talk to you, to understand what happened between us. If you missed me, why not talk to me?”

  She pulled her hands from his and rose from the couch. She walked a few steps away, then turned back to him. “I guess I didn’t believe you’d listen. Experience had told me you wouldn’t.”

  “You didn’t trust me.”

  She frowned. “I didn’t say that.”

  “And yet yesterday, knowing I was at the wedding, knowing I was just steps away when Cobb shot at you, you ran then, too. I would have protected you with my life, Kara. But you took off on that horse and almost died out in that storm!”

  She raked her hair back, stunned that he was bringing up yesterday’s events. “I was scared! I was...in shock. I—”

  “You saw me. Right outside the barn. I was coming for you, and you blew right past me and took off. You didn’t even give me a chance to help you!”

  “I went to the barn to get away from you! I was hurting.”

  Her admission seemed to slap him. A crestfallen look shadowed his face.

  She spun away and paced the floor, burning off the nervous energy that revved in her blood when she remembered the terrifying moments in the barn. “And then that...that cretin shot at me, and I was just trying to save myself. I panicked.”

  She faced Brady again. “Okay?” She raised her hands as if surrendering. “I panicked! Not smart for a bullfighter, I know. I’m not proud of it, but that’s what happened. I was in shock and scared, and I ran. As simple as that.”

  “But you ran. You didn’t trust me to help you, to be there.”

  She opened her mouth. Closed it. Maybe he was right, at least partially.

  “Kara, listen to me, now. Hear me.” He pushed off the sofa, holding her gaze with eyes dark with passion and conviction. Taking her shoulders in his hands, he said, “I will always be there for you. You will always be my first priority. Nothing is more important to me than you are.”

  She stared back at him, her heart pounding. As desperately as she wanted to believe him, shards of doubt still pricked her. “What about your job? Your duty to your position as sheriff?”

  His jaw tightened, his lips thinned as he frowned in frustration. “I’ve made a commitment to the people of this county. I can’t just drop everything and walk away, if that’s what you’re asking me to do.”

  “I’m not asking anything, Brady. But now you know how I feel about living with a lawman...and why.” She backed out of his grip and marched back to her bedroom.

  As much as she wanted to believe they’d made progress working out their differences, in some ways, nothing had changed.

  * * *

  “He’s there? Now?” Hannah asked, her voice vibrating through the phone with intrigue and excitement.

  “Yeah.” Kara stroked Jerry’s head. The tom, who’d followed her down the hall and settled on her bed, ate up the attention. “He brought me home last night, and he’s still here.”

  “Then what are you doing talking to me? Get on with the make-up sex.”

  Kara closed her eyes, and her body hummed at the images Hannah’s assumption brought to mind. “It’s not like that. We still have things to work out.”

  “Like?” Hannah prompted.

  She chewed her bottom lip and thought about it. “He says I ran away. When he didn’t hear me, instead of pressing the issue, having the heart-to-heart that we needed to...I ran.”

  “And didn’t you?”

  Her stomach rolled, guilt stirring inside her. “I guess I did. I was hurt and...dang it, Hannah. I’m just so tired of hurting. Of grieving.”

  “Are you...maybe...using your pain as a shield? Keeping the old wounds alive as an excuse not to trust him with a second chance?”

  Kara scowled. “Have you been talking to Brady? He accused me of not trusting him, too.”

  Hannah laughed lightly. “Great minds think alike?” Then more soberly, “So...do you trust him? Will you give him a second chance?”

  “I want to, but...”

  “But nothing. Stop talking to me and get out there with him. Talk to him, spend time with him, make love to him. Put a little elbow grease into patching things up with him.” Hannah chuckled. “If I had a hot cowboy like him, Lord knows I’d be working hard to get things straightened out and on the right path!”

  Deep down, Kara knew her friend was right. She couldn’t let old wounds, old fears and worries be an excuse for keeping Brady at arm’s length. If they were going to have a future, that future needed to start now. Her happiness was hers for the taking, if she had the courage to reach out and grab it.

  Over the next few hours, Kara puttered around her house, doing a little straightening, some gift wrapping, and some baking. She made a pot of soup that they ate throughout the day. Though she sat in the living room with him, reading while Brady worked, she gave Brady the quiet and space he needed as he steered elements of the investigation from her couch.

  Despite the emotional tension that had characterized their earlier discussion, the mood between them as they passed the hours that afternoon was companionable and easy. They easily fell back into routines and patterns they’d shared when they were dating. Kara cooked and served the soup, and Brady washed their bowls and set them in the drying rack. Kara worked on the crossword puzzle, and Brady stole side glances at her progress and offered answers when he knew them. Kara propped her feet on the coffee table and reclined on the couch to rest her eyes, and Brady pulled her feet into his lap and massaged her arches.

  * * *

  And through the afternoon hours, Brady mulled over what Kara had told him that morning. He hadn’t heard her. He’d shut her down, tuned her out when he should have supported her. Would he have taken the interim job as sheriff if he’d really listened to her all those months ago? If he’d made her feel safe enough with him, loved enough to be completely honest about her past and he’d really understood how she felt back then, would he have taken the job? If he’d taken the time to really appreciate what it meant to honor the woman he wanted to spend his life with, if he’d weighed her opinion and preferences when he made his career decision, would he be on the job as sheriff today?

  He liked to think he’d have been more understanding, more flexible. But in truth, he’d been so honored to have been asked to fill the position, so eager to use the new
post as a stepping stone to boost his career, propel him to better things, he’d all too easily shut her out.

  Knowing that truth stung. He’d believed better of himself. He wanted to be more than just a job, a law enforcement star on the rise. He wanted to be a man worthy of a woman like Kara. He wanted to be a good husband, a man of character, someone Kara and his friends could count on and believe in.

  He cut a glance to her as she napped in the late afternoon, her tousled blond hair falling in her eyes and her full lips parted slightly as she softly snored. His heart wrenched, knowing he’d hurt her, knowing she’d had reason to believe he didn’t respect her feelings. Somehow he had to find a way to make amends. He missed her. He missed...this. This rapport and friendship, the quiet evenings and passion-filled nights.

  Had he been blinded by ambition? Maybe. Probably.

  So...where did that leave him? Did he quit? That didn’t seem honorable either. He needed to fulfill his commitment, honor the responsibility he’d been given.

  He scoffed and shook his head. Responsibility? For requisitions to buy toilet paper? For parking tickets and bringing Cloyd Werther in again on disturbing-the-peace charges so he could dry out in the holding cell? The job hadn’t panned out quite the way he’d expected. He missed the puzzle-solving, boots-on-the-ground aspect of working the forensics of a case.

  Even now, when he finally had a big case, he was still the one doing paperwork. Wilhite and Anderson had been the ones in the fray. But for all his disillusionment with the job, he couldn’t walk away from his post while there was a sniper on the loose.

  So where did that leave him with Kara? He rubbed his face, sighing as his thoughts came full circle again.

  He heard Kara rouse and met her sleepy gaze as she sat up on the sofa. “You snore.”

  Her brow crumpled. “Do not.”

  He grinned and squeezed her foot. “Do, too. But don’t worry. It’ll be our little secret.”