by Emily March
“Wow,” Devin said. “That’s a coincidence. My own situation is similar.” He told her about his biological mother’s death, and Cam stepping up afterward. “He was a single parent for over ten years. It’s not an easy job.”
Jenna breathed a little easier. Devin’s mind hadn’t gone to Reilly from Nashville. She hadn’t given them away. “No, it’s definitely not easy, but it is rewarding.”
Their conversation was interrupted when Reilly’s cast went awry and his line got tangled in a bush. Devin hopped up to help and Jenna watched the summertime Santa assist her son. A pang of yearning twisted her heart. Would she and Reilly ever be able to have a normal life? Would she ever be free to have another romance or give Reilly that father he craved?
Her thoughts returned to that first Santa phone call. Do you know how lonely your little boy is? Care to guess what his Christmas wish was? A daddy. The boy wished for a dad.
Here it was a year and a half later, and she was no closer to making his wish come true than she had been that Christmas Eve.
Devin “Santa Claus” Murphy wouldn’t approve. He’d been impatient with her reaction to being doxxed. What would he say if she told him that they’d been swatted two separate times? He’d probably be on the phone to his private investigator friend before she got the whole story out.
For all the good that would do. Been there, done that, have the invoices and no fresh leads to prove it.
After freeing the tangled line, Devin returned to the picnic quilt. “You know, despite my gypsy ways, I’ve always had a permanent address. Have you always been a camping aficionado?”
“My parents were campers,” she replied, happy to be able to tell the truth about that. “We tent camped mostly, but when I was ten they bought their first pop-up. We spent at least one weekend a month and every vacation camping. It was heaven. I fell in love with the outdoors during those years and it’s an interest I wanted to pass along to my son. Since I can work from anywhere that has an Internet connection and RJ was game for the adventure, we thought we’d give the camping lifestyle a try. Fifth-wheel living in RV parks isn’t tent camping in a place like this, but it’s a nice compromise.”
Devin grabbed a grape and popped it into his mouth. “I like the way you think, Ms. Tarver.”
The sound of her fake name on his lips dimmed her smile, but since his gaze had shifted to Reilly, he didn’t notice.
“Although, I do have a question. If you grew up camping in the great outdoors, how come you made such an amateur mistake taking the trout off RJ’s hook this morning?”
Jenna’s mouth twisted in rueful smile. “That’s what men are for.”
Devin gaped at her. “Seriously? Did you seriously just say that? What sort of modern-day self-sufficient outdoors woman are you if you can’t take your own fish off the hook?”
“I can. I just don’t like to. I don’t like scales. That goes for snakes and lizards too.”
“Snakes have skin, Mom,” Reilly called, proving the truth about little pitchers having big ears.
Devin then proceeded to prove his maleness by launching into an in-depth explanation of snake “skin” and the protective properties of scales on reptiles. He had Reilly hanging on his every word. When he mentioned the six-foot long rattlesnake skin from the family ranch in Texas that Brick Callahan kept in his office at Stardance Ranch, it quickly became obvious that her son’s interest in fishing was done for the day. Next stop for this outing of theirs was the RV resort office.
She started packing up the picnic supplies while Devin enlisted Reilly’s help with the fishing gear, taking care to teach the boy best practices in the process. Soon they began the climb back up the trail with Jenna leading the way, her son in the middle, and Devin bringing up the rear, cooler in hand. She was a dozen steps from the top when she heard the sound that struck terror in her heart. Jenna halted abruptly. Behind her, Reilly gasped aloud.
Not a bear. Not a mountain lion.
“Hurry up, Dad,” came a little boy’s familiar voice. “Dev is gonna catch all the fish.”
Jenna saw a flash of red as the figure topped the hill and raced downward. She had no chance to move out of the way before Michael Murphy barreled into her. He knocked her backward, and her foot came down wrong on something—a root, a rock, she didn’t know what. Pain exploded in her ankle. She fell and began to tumble down the hill.
“Mom!” Reilly cried.
“Jenna!” Devin tossed aside the cooler and lunged for her, but right before he reached her, she slammed into the trunk of a tree and lost her breath.
“I’m sorry!” Michael exclaimed. “I didn’t see . . . Reilly? What are you doing here? What did you do to your hair?”
Reilly emitted a low moan.
Cam Murphy topped the hill and took in the scene. “Geeze, Mike. Jenna, are you all right?”
She closed her eyes against the pain in her ankle and struggled for breath. Devin knelt beside her saying, “Obviously, there’s a story here, but first things first. Got the breath knocked out of you, did you? Take your time. Let us know what hurts when you’re able.”
She used the seconds while she fought for breath to process what had just happened. Not a total disaster. The cat was only halfway out of the bag. What happened to Michael spending the day at summer camp with his sister’s husband?
Oh, well. What’s done is done. Deal with it.
“Mom!” Reilly was down on his knees beside her, worry wreathing his face. “Are you okay, Mom?”
“I’m fine. I’m fine. Everything is okay, buddy. Go pick up the things you dropped.” She started to stand, but when she went to put weight on her right foot, pain arrowed through her. She sank back down. “Yikes.”
“Your ankle?” Devin asked. “Yeah.”
“Broken?”
“I don’t think so.”
“You have ice in that cooler, Devin?” Cam asked.
“Yeah.” Devin shrugged off the flannel shirt he wore over a plain white tee and tossed it to his dad. Cam used it to create a makeshift ice pack that he tied around Jenna’s swelling ankle.
Michael watched the proceedings with narrowed blue eyes. “How come you and Reilly are at our fishing hole, Ms. Stockton? And why did you stop letting him do FaceTime with me?”
“Stockton?” Devin repeated.
Reilly groaned. Jenna grimaced. Cam said, “Michael Cameron Murphy, zip your lips. You’ve done enough for now.”
“But Dad!”
Cam gave his younger son the father’s hairy eyeball stare and, when the boy shut his mouth, continued. “Jenna, I think this will work best if Devin and I get on either side of you. At least until we get you up over the hill. Okay?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
“Boys, pick up your gear. You go up first. Wait for us at the edge of the meadow.” To Jenna and Devin, he muttered, “I want Michael out of the way. The last thing we need to happen is for him to get in a hurry and knock you down again.”
Devin helped her to stand, and then the two Murphy men all but carried her up the hill. Nobody talked, a detail for which Jenna was grateful, and when they topped the hill and reached level ground, Devin said, “I’ll carry her from here. Will you get the cooler, Dad? No sense baiting the bears.”
He swept her off her feet and strode toward the spot where she saw Michael and Reilly sniping at each other. “Enough,” Devin snapped as he walked past them.
As the boys fell in behind them, Jenna closed her eyes and tried to think. Under other circumstances she would have enjoyed being swept off her feet by Devin Murphy.
Actually, she had entertained a similar fantasy or two involving Sexy Santa in the past. But since she figured she had only a handful of minutes before the questions would begin, she needed to drag her mind away from the hard body cradling hers and come up with some answers.
When Cam caught up with them, Devin asked, “Did I miss the memo about you and the squirt coming fishing this afternoon?”
“My afternoon
tour got cancelled. It’s your first day home. We thought we’d surprise you.”
“Mission accomplished.”
“Yep.” Cam gave Jenna a sidelong look and added, “Lots of surprises going around.”
Okay, so she didn’t even have a handful of minutes. Too bad I didn’t bang my head.
Jenna knew what she had to do. She’d known almost since the moment she identified Michael’s voice. Shoot, if she was being honest with herself, maybe she’d intended for the truth to come out all along. Why else come to Eternity Springs?
She needed help.
She lifted her mouth toward Devin’s ear and spoke in a tone only he could hear. “Please don’t react. Please don’t ask questions. It’s a long story and I need to explain . . . I will explain . . . when Reilly isn’t around. Devin, do you remember the North Pole wrong number? He’s Reilly from Nashville. I’m Reilly’s Mom.”
Santa Claus almost dropped her.
Devin’s mind spun like the winds of Hurricane Danielle, which had taken out his boats in the Bella Vita Isle harbor. RJ was Reilly. Jenna was Reilly’s Mom. Somehow, they knew his family. For some reason, they’d lied about their names. Changed their appearance—blue tips and black hair when she’d told him she was a redhead. Why?
What sort of trouble was she in? Something bigger than tangling with an asshat who’d doxxed her with pizzas eighteen months ago, obviously.
“You can’t drive with that ankle. I’ll take you into town and to the clinic to have it looked at. I’ll drive your truck if you’d like.” He halfway expected her to protest, but she simply nodded. “Dad can take Reilly home with him. We can come back for the extra truck tomorrow.”
“No!” her son said, an edge of terror in his tone. “No, Mom. I’m going with you. You can’t leave me!”
“I’m not going to leave you.”
“I’m taking her to the clinic on Cottonwood Street to get that ankle treated. The clinic is only a block away from my dad’s house. I’ll bring her there as soon as she’s finished. I promise.”
“Mom!”
The plea in the boy’s gaze convinced Devin that the boy would be coming with them. No way anyone could say no to those puppy dog eyes.
“Go with Mr. Murphy, sweetheart. It’ll be okay.”
“But, Mom. It’s not safe.”
Michael scowled with insult. “We won’t hurt you, Reilly!”
Reilly rounded on Michael. “I’m not worried that you’ll hurt me! I’m worried they’ll hurt you. I got my arm broked the first time, and the second time Mom got a black eye. They have guns! Next time they could shoot somebody!” As he burst into tears, Jenna said, “Put me down, please, Devin. Let me hold him. I need to hold him.”
Guns? What the hell happened to them? Devin’s jaw hardened. “We’re almost to the truck. Dad, would you get the tailgate?”
“Sure.” As Cam deposited the cooler into the bed of the truck Devin was using and lowered the tailgate, he looked as grim as Devin felt.
In a dozen long strides, Devin delivered Jenna to the truck. He set her down gently and then lifted Reilly up beside her. The boy buried his head against her breast and began to sob.
“Shush, honey,” she said. “It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.”
“No, it’s not. That’s what you always say and it never is okay.”
She stroked his bleached hair. “Well, this time might be different. I have a good feeling about it. I have a good feeling about this place and these people. I’m not giving up and I don’t want you to give up either.”
“But if he finds us—”
“He won’t,” Jenna was quick to deny. “Nothing has really changed, Reilly.”
“They know!”
“The Murphys know. Nobody else. And Michael’s dad and brother won’t talk about us on the Internet, not after I tell them what happened. They’re good people. They’ll keep our secret.”
“But I’m scared!”
“I know. I’m sorry about that, Reilly. I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure you’re never scared again.” She tilted his chin and directly met his gaze. “I promise.”
She used the pad of her thumb to wipe away his tears and said, “Will you go with Michael? Please? You can tell him about our visit to the Great Smokey Mountains National Park, and Hot Springs National Park.”
The boy hesitated.
Devin offered, “I’ll bet my dad would take you to Stardance Ranch to see Brick’s snakeskin.”
That caught Reilly’s interest. He darted a glance over toward Cam, who said, “We can do that. It is an awesome snakeskin. Six feet long.”
“I would like to see it.”
“Now is the perfect opportunity. After you see the snakeskin, if you want, I’ll bet I could get us access to the special mountain animal exhibit room at our community school.”
“Oh yeah!” Michael nodded enthusiastically. “It’s super cool. There’s a real bear and a mountain lion and mountain goat. Beavers and a hawk and a ton of cool things. They’re stuffed and have glass eyes like the ones hanging on the wall at the Mocha Moose. Remember those?”
Reilly nodded.
Cam explained. “Our local taxidermist donated his collection to the school when he moved away.”
Michael tugged Reilly’s hand until he climbed down from the tailgate. “You’ll like it, Reilly. C’mon. Let’s get in Dad’s truck. Bet we can talk him into getting us a snow cone too. Have you been to the snow cone stand? I like the blue ones best. They’re coconut. Have you ever eaten a coconut? Devin says he had a coconut tree in his yard on Bella Vita Isle, but I don’t remember it. That’s where my brother used to live before he moved to Australia.”
Reilly gave Jenna one more conflicted look. Gently, she urged him, “Go on, buddy. Have fun. I’m fine. Devin and I will find you once the doctor has examined my ankle.”
The boy had one last concern. “Make him promise about the Internet.”
Jenna gave Cam an apologetic smile. “Reilly and I appreciate all of your help, Cam. Do you mind reassuring him that you won’t put our names on the Internet in any way this afternoon?”
“Of course I won’t.” Cam hunkered down in front of
Reilly. “You have my word. Believe me?” Reilly reluctantly nodded.
“Let’s go!” Michael shouted, running toward his father’s truck. “Wait until you see Mr. Brick’s snake. It’s awesome.”
Cam rose and offered Reilly his hand. Devin spied Jenna’s sigh of relief as he took it and they followed Michael to his father’s truck. Devin waited until Cam had started the engine, made a U-turn on the road, and headed back toward town. Then he met Jenna’s gaze. “Well, this trip certainly took an unexpected turn. How bad is your pain? I can’t tell you how anxious I am to hear your story, but I’m willing to wait until after you’ve seen a doctor.”
“I don’t mind answering your questions.” She tugged keys from the pocket of her jeans and handed them to him. Devin opened the passenger door, gently lifted her off the tailgate, and settled her into the truck’s front seat. By the time he climbed behind the wheel, she’d found her purse and dug a small bottle of ibuprofen from its depths. Devin spied the six-pack of bottled water in the back seat, reached for one, and handed it to her. “Thank you,” she said and took two of the painkillers.
Devin adjusted the seat and mirrors and started the engine. But before he shifted into gear, he turned his head to look at her. “You’re Reilly’s Mom.”
Her mouth twisted wryly. “Yep.”
“Okay, then. Before we get everything else, there’s one thing I need to get out of the way.” He leaned toward her, cupped his hand on the back of her head, and without jostling her leg, gently pulled her face toward his.
Then he captured her lips with his for the kiss he’d been fantasizing about for the past eighteen months.
Nine
Jenna’s head spun. Her body flushed with heat. Either someone had slipped something illegal into her bottle of ibuprofen
or Devin Murphy’s kiss packed a serious punch. Sexy, sexy Santa.
He took his time with it, his mouth gentle and firm, curious and exploring, stirring up a cloud of lust like an easy summer breeze through a mountain meadow. When he finally released her, he backed away slowly, his eyes closed, his lips pursed as if to savor the final trace of taste for the longest possible amount of time.
“Mmm . . .” he murmured. “Thank you, Reilly’s Mom. You don’t know how many times I’ve thought about doing that.”
“I . . . um . . .” No way would she clue him in that she’d entertained similar thoughts herself. “That was nice.”
“Very nice.” Shifting the truck into gear, he turned around and headed back the way they’d came. “So nice that I hate to put a damper on things, but I don’t know how long this story you need to share takes to tell. We’re twenty minutes from the clinic. Maybe you should get started.”
And poof. There goes the mood.
Jenna leaned back against the headrest, shut her eyes, and attempted to gather her thoughts while ignoring the pain in her ankle. She’d rolled it and hit hard when she’d landed. She suspected an exam would rule out a fracture, and predicted a Grade 2 sprain. Possibly Grade 3. The bottom line was that the sprain was bad enough that it impaired her ability to drive safely, especially while pulling a trailer and with Reilly in the car. For the next week or so, anyway, their wings were well and truly clipped.
“Do you remember the last phone call we made to Santa? The one on New Year’s Eve when I spoke to you and told you that Reilly had a broken arm?”
“I do.”
She then told him about the New Year’s Eve SWAT raid, their move to Memphis, the private investigator’s lack of success, and the seven months of relative peace followed by a flurry of assaults that precipitated their flight to Tallahassee. She glossed over the reasons why they decided to spend last Christmas in Eternity Springs, but she went into some detail about SWAT raid number two.
With every fact she shared, Devin grew progressively more quiet and intense. His grip on the steering wheel tightened until the veins in his hands protruded and his knuckles went white.