“Know what you want?” he asked.
Meg swallowed around the lump in her throat. “Excuse me.”
“What chocolates you’re going to get?”
She sighed with relief. She thought he’d read her mind. “Salted caramels for the guys. I’ll have to see what Sage has in the display case before I decide what I want.”
Besides him.
“You can have more than one,” Ty said.
“I might want only one.”
“It’s Christmas. Don’t be so cautious. Live it up.”
If only she knew where he stood . . . Dare she ask?
“Maybe I will,” she said.
Hope danced with fear, both trying to lead and stepping on each others’ toes. He seemed interested. A man wouldn’t spend so much time with her if he wasn’t enjoying himself, would he?
She could have read his signals—his interest—wrong. She’d married her second boyfriend when she’d been nineteen. Divorced him at twenty-three. She’d avoided relationships and flings and everything in between because of her daughter. Meg didn’t know how dating worked these days or any relationship rules.
Ty said he didn’t want to be a dad again—Rachel had warned Meg about that—but the way he acted told another story. He’d embraced both her and Brooklyn, spending time and going out of his way for them. Actions spoke louder than words, right? Especially for men. At least she remembered hearing or reading that.
What if she were wrong?
Maybe being cautious was prudent in this situation. Sure, her heart would recover. She’d survived Trace leaving and having a baby on her own. She could survive anything for her daughter’s sake. Meg had no other choice. But she couldn’t be rash or stupid.
If she was wrong and things at the ranch got awkward, that might jeopardize her job. She couldn’t put her job that came with a place to live at risk. Or do something that would affect Brooklyn.
No, Meg needed more signs from Ty, before she said or did anything.
Maybe Santa would put a sign in her stocking and another one under the tree so she’d know for certain and could start working to make all her dreams come true. Maybe by this time next year, they will have.
The Christmas Eve service opened with a procession of children singing “Oh Come All Ye Faithful.” Ty filmed with his smartphone, so that Meg could enjoy the show without trying to capture each moment on video.
The shepherds came first. Boys and girls dressed in bathrobes. Some carried sheep. Others carried staffs. Two fought lightsaber-style until separated and had their sticks taken away by a white-haired woman in a red reindeer sweater, who must have been a ninja in a former life.
The wise men followed with crowns on their heads. They carried small treasure chests and foiled wrapped gifts. One dragged a large stuffed camel.
Mary and Joseph walked hand-in-hand after the kings, drawing oohs and ahs from the audience. Children dressed like sheep and cows added their own sound affects—baaing and mooing—to the procession.
The angels brought up the rear, floating down the aisle like ballerinas in white. Gold halos bounced on their heads and their wings left a trail of glitter on the carpet. Brooklyn’s bright smile couldn’t be missed. She glowed with excitement.
Seeing her filled Ty with pride. He shifted positions to get a better shot of her.
“There she is,” Meg whispered, her hand on his shoulder.
Ty zoomed in to get a close up of Brooklyn. The little girl saw him, jumped up and down, waved, then blew him a kiss.
A ball of warmth settled at the center of his chest.
Cutest angel ever.
The last child in the procession was a girl dressed in white with big feathery wings. She carried baby Jesus. Upside down. Two doll feet stuck out the top of the blanket instead of the baby’s head. She had no idea and smiled for the camera. Amused family and friends snapped pictures. More memorable than if everything had gone perfect.
A few forgotten lines and botched cues later, the play ended and Brooklyn sat in between him and Meg. The rest of the service took place—songs, readings and a special sermon on the true meaning of Christmas. The words resonated in Ty’s head, but most especially his heart. His gaze travelled from Brooklyn to Meg. A part of him wanted to wrap his arms around the two and never let go.
If he wanted to settle down with a woman, Meg would be the one. She possessed the right qualities—minus cooking skills—that he would want in a partner. He kept tossing the idea around, especially after speaking with Dustin earlier. Ty hadn’t been looking for a girlfriend or wanting anything serious. Yet Meg was ultra responsible, putting her role as a mom above everything else.
Was hanging out like they’d been doing going to be enough for her? He wasn’t ready for more. He didn’t know if he could give her enough in return.
He might be settled at the ranch and not planning to live anywhere except the Bar V5 until he died, but he liked his life. Living in the bunkhouse instead of the foreman’s house suited him fine. Yes, he got lonely sometimes. Who didn’t?
He thought about Brooklyn . . .
She was a great kid. He loved her missing teeth smile and non-stop questions. Her way with animals reminded him of Charlie.
He knew Brooklyn wanted her dad. Ty also knew she was happy having him around, too. She’d told him as much when they were window-shopping. But being a father, even a stand-in one, wasn’t easy. He liked Meg and Brooklyn, but going back to feeling over his head, out of control and in a constant state of worry, didn’t appeal to him.
Nor could he forget about his parents’ marriage. Rachel didn’t remember, and he didn’t feel the need to enlighten her about their mom and dad’s struggles. Money issues, no time spent together due to work shifts. So many things kept threatening to tear two people who loved each other apart. He looked at marriage the way Megan viewed climbing. Not worth the risks, especially with so many things out of his control.
So why was he acting like Brooklyn’s surrogate dad and Meg’s boyfriend? Time to draw a line and stay on his side. For his sake and theirs.
He had to face the facts. The last thing he wanted for Christmas was an instant family. The sooner Ty knew Meg and he were on the same page about this, the better.
Later that night, Ty sat on Meg’s couch in her cabin. The Christmas Eve festivities were over. Now came Santa time. “Is Brooklyn asleep?”
“Completely. Her eyes closed before her head hit the pillow.” Meg sat next to him, her thigh against his. “Visions of sugarplums are dancing in her dreams.”
Meg sitting so close was a distraction. He stood, wanting to put space between them. “Do you have everything ready?”
“In the garbage bag over there.” She patted the seat next to her. “There’s no rush.”
The longing in her eyes made him take a step back. “Let’s get this finished first.”
“Okay.”
Ty removed the presents from the bag and handed them to Meg, who placed them under the tree. “What about the stocking stuffers?”
“Rachel has those. Brooklyn wanted the stocking hanging in the lodge. She said Santa would know that was the one to fill.”
“Smart girl.”
“She was worried about the cabin not having a fireplace. I told her I’d leave the door unlocked, so he could bring in the presents.”
Putting out the gifts went quickly. Ty stood back and looked at the tree. “She’s going to be excited to see the presents.”
“I hope so.” Meg looked at him. “Is something wrong?”
“Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know. You seem distant. Distracted.”
He’d hoped to put this off until after Christmas, but now . . . “We need to talk.”
“Sure.” She sat on the couch.
He took the chair.
Based on the expression on her face, where he sat wasn’t lost on her.
She narrowed her gage. “What’s going on?”
“Spending time with you
this month has been great.”
“I agree. Thanks for giving us a taste of a Montana Christmas.”
“You’re welcome.” He rubbed his tight neck. “Christmas is only a couple hours away. And . . . ”
She leaned forward, a hint of worry in her eyes. “And?”
Saying the words was harder than he thought it would be. Might as well say them and be finished. “I like you a lot. Brooklyn, too. But we should stick to being friends. I’m not looking for an instant family. Sorry.”
“Oh.”
Her one word didn’t tell him much. Not like the Black Friday morning back at the barn.
“I hope I didn’t lead you on.”
“It’s fine.” Meg’s voice sounded hoarse, unnatural. She cleared her throat. “I’ll be honest. I may have gotten wrapped up in the romance of the holidays and the Christmas wedding. You’ve been clear from the beginning about what you wanted and didn’t want. No worries.”
He’d expected . . . Ty wasn’t sure what, but not a rational discussion. Meg was an amazing woman. “So we’re good being friends.”
Hurt flashed in her eyes. Tears gleamed.
Ty’s chest tightened. Maybe not. “I’m sorry.”
She blinked. Crossed her arms in front of her. Angled away from him. “I need some time, okay? This is nothing compared to some of the other things I’ve been through. I’ll be fine.”
Eventually.
The word was unspoken, but implied.
“You’re sure?” he asked.
“Yes.” She leaned back against the couch. “Your work is done here. Go. There’s time to celebrate with the boys.”
Meg’s hands trembled slightly. Her lower lip quivered, too.
He didn’t want to leave her if she was upset. “I—”
“Go,” she said sharply. “I’d like to be alone.”
Ty rose. He wiped his palms against his pants. He’d made the right choice. For both of them. So why did he feel so bad? “I’ll see myself out.”
Chapter Nine
Giant snowflakes floated to the ground outside the cabin’s kitchen window. The intricate patterns, as if designed by elves with magical scissors, that usually would capture Meg’s attention were lost on her this morning. “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” played on the iPod, but the lyrics to “Blue Christmas” seemed more fitting given her mood. December twenty-fifth had arrived with the fanfare of a ship arriving at the wrong port.
The joy of the season had disappeared, scooped up and disposed of like the ashes in the wood stove. If not for the presents under the tree from Santa, she would never think today was Christmas.
Bah-humbug? Not quite.
But Meg wouldn’t mind having a quiet celebration, watching movies and napping. She hadn’t slept well last night, tossing and turning and unable to get comfortable. Now she was too awake to try to sleep more.
With a sigh, she leaned against the counter. Soon Brooklyn would wake, come barreling out of her room and attack the presents under the tree like a puppy looking for a bone. Until then, Meg would enjoy the stillness in the cabin and rely on caffeine to give her energy.
She cradled a steaming mug of coffee with both hands, hoping the heat would take away the chill. Oh, the air temperature was warm enough, but she couldn’t shake the cold inside her body, as if ice water ran through her veins. She knew the reason. The same reason sleep had eluded her during the night.
Ty.
A vice tightened around her heart, squeezing the aching organ with no end in sight. The look on his face last night had been etched on her brain. She wished she could forget. She’d been expecting a kiss, not to have her dreams dashed in an instant.
I like you a lot. Brooklyn, too. But, we should stick to being friends. I’m not looking for an instant family. Sorry.
Sorry. Meg half-laughed. She was sorry Ty felt that way, too. She was hurt and disappointed, no sense lying about her feelings. She wanted it all—her job at the Bar V5, living here at the ranch, Ty. Her heart ached, a jagged pain that rivaled being left alone and pregnant because she’d fallen in love with Ty. The one thing she’d tried desperately not to do. As he’d said last night, best to cut their losses and move on as friends.
Friends.
The word tasted bitter in her mouth. Like biting on aluminum foil.
But she had to accept that and quick. Not unless she wanted to quit. Leaving the Bar V5 wouldn’t be good for Brooklyn.
She wasn’t going to fall apart. Ty had told her the truth before things got more serious. His not wanting a wife and kids had nothing to do with her or Brooklyn. He didn’t want any woman or kids in his life.
Nothing personal.
Rachel had warned Meg. She hadn’t listened. Rather, she hadn’t wanted to listen. She’d allowed herself to get caught up in the romance of planning a Christmas wedding thinking she might be next, and to lose herself in the fantasy of having a fairytale ending like the ones in the princess movies she watched with Brooklyn.
Her fault?
Yes. Meg knew better than to blindly go over the edge without someone holding the other end of the rope to catch her if she fell. She’d fallen for Ty. Fallen hard.
A mistake?
Perhaps. The connection between her and Ty had been unexpected. Unwelcome at times, too. But once she’d decided to take a chance, she hadn’t been disappointed until last night. Ty was still a good guy, and Brooklyn adored him. That wouldn’t change, even if Meg’s bruised heart would take time to heal. By falling for Ty, she’d learned she didn’t have to wait to have a relationship. She could date, not lose focus on Brooklyn, and keep her daughter’s heart safe.
The silver lining? Maybe. Knowing she and Ty would never be more than co-workers and friends sucked. But due to her job and her daughter, Meg had no other choice except to embrace that friendship and stop herself from wanting more. She had to be professional and unemotional, even if her heart wished things could be different.
So what if she could picture her and Ty’s future, their lives entwined, growing older together? He didn’t share that vision. No sense mourning what never was, or never could be. Meg straightened.
Christmas was a day for celebrating the greatest gift of love given to humankind. She wouldn’t let anything spoil the joy of today. Who knew? Maybe this still could turn into their best Christmas ever.
Speaking of which, why wasn’t Brooklyn awake? She’d wanted to stay up and see Santa, but had been asleep before ten last night.
Meg placed her coffee cup on the kitchen counter, then made her way to Brooklyn’s room. The door was ajar. Meg peeked inside. The bed was empty, the covers tossed aside.
Her heart dropped. Air rushed from her lungs. She forced a breath. “Brooklyn.”
No answer.
“Brooklyn,” Meg said louder.
No reply.
Adrenaline flowing, she checked the bathroom.
No sign of her daughter.
Meg checked every closet, under the bed, any place she could think a six-year-old could climb into and fall asleep. With each passing second, her panic rose.
She’s got to be here, if not . . .
The barn.
Brooklyn might be at the barn again.
Running to the front door, Meg’s sock-covered feet slipped on the hardwood floor. She slid, then crashed into the wall. Ouch. That was going to leave a bruise. At least she managed to stay upright. She surveyed the coat rack. Brooklyn’s pink parka and snow boots were missing.
Meg threw on a coat over her pajamas, put on a wool hat, shoved her feet into a pair of boots and tugged on gloves. She opened the door. The snow fell heavier, but she saw small footprints.
If she didn’t find Brooklyn in the barn, Meg would need to search elsewhere. The Bar V5 was so large. She couldn’t do that on her own. She needed help.
Meg needed Ty.
She grabbed the phone from the wall and called the bunkhouse’s landline.
He answered on the first ring. “Merry Christmas.”
“Brooklyn is missing.” The words rushed from Meg’s mouth. “Her coat and boots are gone.”
“The barn?”
“That’s what I’m thinking, but if she’s not there . . . ”
“I’ll have people look elsewhere. With this weather, we don’t want to waste any time.”
Meg tightened her grip on the phone. “Thanks so much.”
“That’s what family is for.”
The Bar 5 is a family. You and Brooklyn are part of that now. His words the night of the tree trimming gave her comfort. “I’m heading to the barn.”
“Be right there.”
“Okay.” An image of Brooklyn formed in Meg’s mind.
Oh, baby, where are you?
A lump burned in her throat. Tears stung her eyes. She couldn’t lose it. She took a deep breath and another. “We’ll find her, right?”
“Yes,” Ty said with no hesitation. “We will find her.”
He had to find Brooklyn.
In the bunkhouse, Ty tugged on his jacket. His pulse pounded through his veins. Thank goodness, he’d been out to the pasture this morning to move the herd to a sheltered area before the storm hit. Taking time to dress would have held him up longer.
The worry in Meg’s voice clawed at his heart. He hated hearing that frightened tone, because he remembered what being in her shoes felt like. Once had been enough. He didn’t want to go through that again.
Except he was.
With Brooklyn.
Where could she be?
Ty slipped on his boots.
So much for not wanting to be a parent—albeit a surrogate one—again. He was reliving that helplessness he’d felt with Rachel, standing in the eye of a hurricane, not sure when the winds would hit.
He tugged on his gloves.
Brooklyn had better be in the barn. A storm was moving in.
Eli put on his duster over his winter outerwear. “I’m heading to the pasture.”
“Zack’s checking the lodge and yard,” Dustin said. “I’m going to look around the outbuildings.”
“Is there some rule about kids not getting grounded on Christmas?” Eli asked.
“Grounding is an available option three-hundred-and-sixty-five days a year, including birthdays and major holidays. At least, it was for Rachel.” Ty had a feeling Meg would agree. He couldn’t believe Brooklyn had done this again. Sure, she was only six, but she’d been told more than once. And to disappear on Christmas morning . . . that was crazy. “Let’s find Brooklyn first, then we can worry about teaching her a lesson.”
Mistletoe Wedding Page 11