“I think that might be good for him,” Cody agreed. “Sometimes, I’m not sure if I’m doing the right thing with him. Until now, I’ve mostly been a Skype dad. Being an in-person dad is still a work in progress for me.”
“You’ve certainly taken to being a father. Davie’s happy and well adjusted. And you’ve been more than a Skype dad. You flew halfway around the world to see his little league championship game.”
“How did you know?”
“Because Mel makes sure I get to talk to my grandson every week. We have a Saturday night phone date, Davie and I.”
“Mel’s done a good job with him. She’s a great mother.”
“She has. But, so have you,” his mother assured him. “That boy is attached to your hip. He worships the ground you walk on. Or wants to.”
“I’m not sure that is something that’s good for him to do,” Cody said.
“Trust me. It’s a fine thing if a son loves his father. And his nana.” She patted his arm and added, “I’m so happy you brought my grandson home to see me. And that my grandson seems to have helped my son find his way home again.” His mother chuckled. “He’s quite the chatterbox, our Davie.”
Cody smiled at her use of the word our. Davie was a Hayes and that was that. “Yeah, he is a talker. I never realized how alone the quiet felt until I spent time with my son.”
“So, Davie seemed quite excited about the new friend he made at the airport.”
Cody braced himself. His mother was never subtle when she was prying into his life. “I wondered how long it would take him to tell you about running into Sarah.”
His mother laughed, a sound of pure joy coming from deep in her belly. “Children cannot keep secrets. I seem to remember you spilling some doozeys growing up.”
“What? Surely not.” Cody was half indignant and half amused.
“Oh, yes. I remember the time your father got me a Mrs. Klaus outfit and you told him he should get his money back, because half the outfit was missing. Then you told Father McMurphy about it at Sunday service when he asked what Santa brought us.” His mom laughed again. “I think I was as red as that fuzzy bit of nothing when you’d finished. And Father McMurphy wouldn’t look me in the eye for almost six months after that.”
“I didn’t,” Cody said.
“Oh, you did,” his mother assured him. “It was the same Christmas you asked for a super hero costume, the one with the red cape and pajamas. And you wore it everywhere. Including outside.”
“Superman,” Cody murmured. “I always imagined that if I could fly, I could see any part of the world whenever I wanted to.”
“So that was the beginning of your wanderlust.”
“Maybe,” Cody agreed. “But I wasn’t really set on the wandering then. I just…I liked the idea of adventure, of new places, new things. The exploring, I guess. And I always come home.”
“Maybe. But not as often as I would like for you to,” His mom said.
Cody looked down at his mother, met her gaze, and saw the yearning in her eyes, the slightly watery smile.
“I’ll make a point to visit more often,” he promised.
“And bring my grandson with you.”
“I will.”
She paused for a minute, like she was debating saying something more. Ellen Hayes got this certain glint in her eyes and she chewed at the corner of her lip when she was thinking. “You know those strings Davie has wrapped you up in?”
Cody nodded, waiting for her to continue.
“You seem to like them. Maybe you’d like the roots just as much. At least with the right woman.” She patted his arm again then turned toward the door. Before she’d taken more than two steps, it slid open.
His son, mouth ringed in the remains of melting marshmallows, said, “Guess who came to visit us?”
“Sarah,” Cody said as his mother beelined over to smother their unexpected guest in a hug.
Chapter 6
Sarah spent the morning chatting with the Hayes.’ Cody’s parents had been mainstays in her life whenever she came to Love to visit her Aunt Jo. If she remembered correctly, Ellen Hayes and Jo had gone to school together and had been friends since grade school. Ellen had no qualms about putting Sarah to work.
“Sarah,” Ellen said. “Why don’t you and Cody go in the kitchen and put together some sandwiches and snacks. It’s a beautiful day today and I think my grandson might like to see that treehouse you kids spent so much time in over the years.”
“Sure, Mrs. Hayes.” She headed into the kitchen that was as familiar to her as her Aunt Jo’s and started pulling out sandwich fixings.
Cody stepped into the kitchen and said, “I’ll do the snacks if you finish the sandwiches.”
“Deal.” Sarah got to work heaping meat, cheeses and veggies onto sub style bread. The first one was easy. She’d known Cody long enough to know what he liked—roast beef, cheese and horseradish slathered on top—and what he didn’t—onions or green peppers. “What do you think Davie would like?”
“Bologna and cheese with mustard,” Cody said.
“Is bologna even a real meat?” Sarah shuddered a bit at the thought of putting it on a sandwich.
“Mom gets the all-beef kind. It’s usually shoved in the back of the deli drawer.” Cody leaned in and whispered, “My dad likes it too.”
Sarah smiled at that and headed back to the fridge to retrieve the elusive bologna. She finished the second sandwich and piled them together on the counter where Cody had placed container with berries, sliced apples and the homemade chips his mom made out of sweet potatoes.
“Where’s yours?” Cody asked.
“My what?” Sarah wasn’t sure why he was glaring at the sandwiches she’d made but he looked like he was trying to fry the bologna with his eyes.
“Your sandwich,” he said. “I thought you would be coming with us.”
Sarah tilted her head and looked at him like he’d grow two of his own. “Why?” Because as far as she remembered no one had invited her along on this impromptu picnic and treehouse climb. She didn’t want to intrude on father-son time.
Cody shook his head like he was trying to clear it and pulled a weary hand over his bearded face. Then he turned and said, “I would like it if you joined us today.”
“What about Davie?”
“He’s been talking non-stop about his first ever friend in Texas.” Cody grinned at that. “I’m sure he’ll love the idea of you joining us.”
Indecision sparked for a minute but Sarah went with her gut and said “Okay. One more sandwich coming up.” She turned and made another sub, adding it to the pile.
“Excellent,” Cody said. And she expected to see him rubbing his hands together with glee but he turned and went into the pantry to rummage around. He came back with a pack for the food and canned drinks to add to their picnic.
They started loading things into the pack and Sarah’s hand skimmed over Cody’s knuckles. He jerked back as something sparked between them.
“All set,” Ellen said as she bustled into the kitchen with Davie, sans pajamas, on her heels.
Sarah turned to the pack and finished loading in the food. Cody stepped back and shoved his hands deep into his pockets as he watched her work. Ellen bundled Davie into an old jacket of his father’s, something appropriate for a hike through the trees—and maybe a visit to that treehouse they’d built so many years ago.
Sarah pushed the undercurrents of tension away and vowed to just enjoy a day with friends, old and new.
“All set?” Cody asked.
Davie and Sarah both nodded.
“Let’s go then.” And Cody led the way out the door and into the sunny Texas afternoon.
Sarah jogged to keep up with the pace Cody set through the chilly afternoon air. Thank goodness, Aunt Jo had kept some of the Jayne girls’ old clothes. Sarah had managed to find a comfortable, if worn pair of jeans and pair of battered Doc Martens she was pretty sure belonged to her sister, Cami. One of the sweaters
and a down filled vest she’d brought from New York completed her outfit. And kept the chill at bay.
Davie ran ahead of them romping through the grass and darting between trees. All he needed was a dog to be nipping at his heels, and it would be a perfect Norman Rockwell snapshot.
Speaking of snapshots…“I’m surprised you don’t have a camera with you.”
“I don’t take it everywhere I go,” Cody said, his tone a bit on the defensive side.
“Since when?” Sarah asked. Because in all the years she’d know Cody Hayes, he had always had a camera within arm’s reach.
He shrugged and said, “Maybe sometimes I want to see the memories first hand, instead of hiding behind the camera lens.”
Sarah winced. She remembered tossing words quite similar to those at him the last time they’d seen each other. “I can understand that,” she said quietly. “And I’m sorry for what I said all those years ago. The pictures you take are beautiful. They are honest, and sometimes raw, but they’re always beautiful.”
His hands knotted, and his jaw clenched as he stopped, turned, and glared at her. The sparks in his eyes had crazy butterflies zinging around her heart.
“Dammit! You aren’t supposed to be all apologetic and agreeable.” The growl in his voice was like deep, rich chocolate to her senses. “You should be kicking my ass for being a jerk earlier.”
“You mean because you didn’t want to get girl cooties?” Sarah’s lame attempt at flippant fell flat.
“I just…I wasn’t expecting to…”
“What? Touch my hand? Feel anything?”
“Something like that,” Cody admitted.
Sarah was stunned. She expected him to deny feeling anything at all when their hands brushed. And she’d felt the same electric current she always did when they got close but that light brush had exploded through her. Maybe because they hadn’t seen each other in so long?
She swallowed hard and slicked her tongue across her bottom lip.
“Don’t do that.” He grabbed her hand and yanked her closer to him.
“What?” She grabbed his wrists, feeling his pulse a rapid beat under her thumbs, even through the gloves she was wearing. “What are…?”
He cupped her jaw in his palm, holding her still as he brought his lips down to hers. The brim of his Stetson dropped across her vision like a window shade before her eyes slid closed. Her mouth opened under his, and her brain shut down. Sarah’s tongue twined with Cody’s. He tasted as good as she remembered. Better. His mouth was sweet like sugar and spicy like peppermint. Her own personal candy cane.
He lifted his head, swore softly, and buried his face in her hair. His soft pants of breath tickled the shell of her ear.
“What? Why? Umm.” Sarah floundered with words for the perhaps the first time in her life. “What was that?”
“A mistake,” Cody said.
“It didn’t feel like a mistake,” Sarah said. “It felt like a kiss.”
“A kiss that leads nowhere. We almost tried this once before, remember? And I don’t think I can handle hurting you again. I just…I can’t.”
As if Sarah could forget. Cody was almost the one who got away. Except she’d never really gotten him in the first place. They’d spent one night together, and in the morning, he was gone. “Maybe we should try it now without strings or expectations?” The words were out before she could think things through.
“I’m not sure we can avoid those. There’s too much already between us. The things that time built won’t just go away,” he said. But kernels of doubt popped in his voice.
“Then maybe it can be just a kiss or two between friends,” Sarah said.
“Does anything about this scream friends to you?” He dropped his mouth onto hers again and dove in like he was putting down roots and never planned to stop.
“Hmm.” The humming sound vibrated in her throat, and Sarah felt his pulse jump as his mouth settled deeper onto hers.
“Dad, why are you kissing her like that?” Cody froze, but it took Sarah’s brain some time to come back online. “Dad!” The little boy’s voice was curious. And close by.
Cody lifted his head, leaving Sarah’s lips exposed to the cool Texas air. She sucked in a quick breath, as they turned to look at Davie, who watched them with a curious little smile on his face. “Did Sarah get hurt or something? Is that why you were kissing her better?”
“That was just a kiss between friends who haven’t seen each other in a long time, son.” Cody kept his gaze fully averted from Sarah’s as he disentangled himself from her. She wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.
She was afraid of where those kisses might take them. Afraid and maybe a little curious too. Before she could let those thoughts bloom any further, Cody took her hand and tugged her back onto the path they’d been walking. “We’re almost to the treehouse, Davie. Just follow this path until it ends.”
Davie took off at a jog. Cody started to follow, but Sarah held him back. “Are we going to follow the path until it ends, too?” she asked.
“Does it have to end?” he asked.
“I’m heading back to New York after Christmas.” Sarah looked at his face but his closed gaze and shuttered eyes gave nothing away. “And you are heading who knows where. So, the questions really are should we enjoy it while it lasts?” And risk our friendship in the process. “Or stop this train now?”
“Is that enough for you, Sarah?” he asked. “A temporary…whatever?”
“Maybe that’s all we can ever have,” she replied. “Maybe something is better than nothing.”
“I seem to remember you were an all or nothing kind of girl. Will just ‘something’ be enough for you?”
“Maybe I’ve learned the importance of finding the happy medium. Of hanging onto something, so you aren’t left with nothing,” she said.
“That’s a lot of maybes.”
She shrugged.
He held her gaze for long minutes, then nodded once, and tugged her along on the path Davie had taken to the treehouse. She had no idea what he’d decided, but she felt a tiny tingle of anticipation at the prospect of finding out.
Chapter 7
By the end of the week, Cody was at his wits end. He couldn’t decide if he and Sarah were spending too much time together or not enough. He was torn between telling her they needed to cut their losses, agree to go their separate ways, and telling her he never wanted to let her go. That last part scared the boots off a cowboy nomad like him.
So far, this week, he’d watched Davie huddle up in the treehouse with Sarah. They’d made a daily trek to this place as Sarah filled his son with stories of their childhood adventures. And she’d marked off Davie’s height then helped him carve his name in the wall next to the slash mark. Davie had been thrilled to see he and Cody were almost the same height at age eight.
He’d watched Davie and Sarah, heads together and bent over an old book of recipes, as they tried to bake an apple pie with the apples they’d picked together.
He’d watched them make plans to pick berries in the spring and try their hand at a cobbler too. And when Sarah had left that day, Cody reminded Davie that the time here in Love was temporary, and Sarah might not always be around. He wanted to protect the boy from the heartbreak of loss.
Davie nodded and said, “I know dad. But sometimes you just need to stop a bit, and enjoy the people you are rooted with right now.”
That had hit Cody in the heart and sent his mind spinning into the realm of choices and possibilities.
And one of those was sitting opposite his son. Davie sat holding a needle looped through one end of a long string while Sarah sat at the other end. They threaded popcorn down the string together, making garland for the tree they’d dug out and brought inside for Christmas. After the holiday, they would replant the tree, leaving things like the garland for the birds to eat.
“Davie,” Cody’s mother called from the kitchen. “How about helping Nana test these cookies? See if they are go
od enough to leave out for Santa tomorrow night. Papa’s not sure if they are just right yet.”
“Yeah!” Davie stood then watched as the garland unraveled from his lap. Face crestfallen he said, “I can’t Nana. I have to finish the garland sewing.”
“Let your father finish that. These cookies have to be kid tested,” she said.
Davie handed Cody the needle and said, “Sarah knows how to sew real good. She can teach you how to sew the corn without breaking the pops.”
“I’m sure she can, son. Go test those cookies for Nana.” Cody watched his son run for the kitchen.
As Davie left the room, Sarah turned to Cody and said, “What bur has been under your saddle the last few days?”
Cody sighed. “I’m sorry I’ve been so, I don’t know, distant, I guess.”
“Grumpy is more like it. Are you having second thoughts? About what we discussed, I mean?”
“Second, third and fourth,” Cody admitted. “I’m not sure I want to rock the boat. In fact, I’m beginning to think I might want to get off the boat, step onto to dry land for a bit, and see what grows. I’m just not sure this is the right place.”
“I can understand that,” Sarah said. “I’ve been trying to figure out if I planted my roots in the right place, too.”
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but do you want to talk about it?” Cody asked. “I’ll listen while we work. No judgements, I promise.” He turned from her gaze, picked up the needle, and threaded a piece of popcorn down the garland string his son had started.
Sarah watched his rugged hands delicately threading popcorn as she searched for words in the silence that descended between them.
“I’m selling my store,” she said in a rush. “And I’m not sure what I’m returning to anymore. What I’m returning for.”
Shock flittered through his eyes as his gaze shot to hers. “Why?” he asked.
“What?”
“Why are you selling your store?” he asked. “Why are you doubting yourself? I mean, you’ve built something amazing in SoHo.”
A Merrily Matched Christmas Page 18