“That’s when the Rocky D’s the busiest.”
“The Rocky D is busy all year.” He had to let her know she couldn’t use that as an excuse.
Her eyes were brimming with the turmoil she was feeling. “And if I spend time with you in California in the spring, what would that mean?” The question came spurting out of her as if it had just been waiting to erupt.
“I don’t know, Jen. I don’t have the answers.”
She backed away from him. “Well, I need some answers, Zack. Soon I’ll know if I’m pregnant or not, but that doesn’t make our situation any clearer.”
“Life isn’t about clarity. It’s about taking what you have and working with it,” he responded gruffly.
“You don’t want marriage and a family and traditions to pass down. I do.”
But Jenny didn’t want to leave the Rocky D. They were back to square one.
Chapter Eleven
Zack wasn’t sure when the idea of Christmas approaching had started to mean something to him—when he’d seen his mother’s golden bells in the barn, heard them jingling in the wind, or when Jenny had hung a wreath on the front door.
As he held a huge, nine-foot fir steady in the Rocky D’s living room on Sunday afternoon and Clay Sullivan tightened the screws holding the trunk in place, he smelled the aroma of cinnamon and cookies baking emanating from the kitchen.
Christmas. What would it mean this year?
“Five bucks for your thoughts,” Clay said, as he stood and studied Zack as well as the tree.
“Not worth that,” he said with a grimace.
“It must be difficult for you being back here after all this time.”
The tree supported now, Zack stepped away from it. “Actually, each day’s gotten easier. I guess part of me missed winter and the horses and memories I’d tried to bury.”
“How are you and Silas?”
“Peaceful for the moment, but that might not last, especially when I tell him I’m leaving January second.”
Clay didn’t comment on that, but rather helped Zack gather trimmed tree boughs. Finally he said, “Parents understand more than you think. They want to protect us and keep us close. They just don’t always know how to do that without interfering.”
“You said you and your dad have gotten closer.”
“Celeste had everything to do with that.”
“Jenny believes my father is a changed man, and even though her own dad has disappointed her over and over, she keeps the door open for him.”
“Maybe women are just more forgiving.”
“Maybe.”
“What’s bothering you, Zack? Something’s on your mind today. It’s obvious.”
Zack raked his hand through his hair and decided his long friendship with Clay was worth a lot. “After I left the Rocky D, Jenny found out she was pregnant. But then she had a miscarriage. I found out about it after Dad’s heart attack.”
Clay’s eyes widened with surprise. “That had to feel like a sucker punch.”
“It did. She didn’t trust me enough to tell me. She didn’t trust me enough to go with me, either, so maybe I shouldn’t be so surprised.”
“She was only eighteen.”
Why couldn’t he let go of it? Why couldn’t he let go of Jenny?
Because nothing had changed. He’d be leaving, and she’d be staying despite chemistry and memories and connections.
Suddenly, Abby came running into the long living room like a miniature tornado. Stopping beside Clay, she looked up at the tree and clapped her hands. “It’s up.”
“Sure is,” Zack said with a smile for Clay’s almost-four-year-old daughter. “As soon as we wrap it with some lights, it’s all yours.”
The hairs on Zack’s neck prickled as Jenny walked in. He was more aware of Jenny now than he’d ever been. Celeste followed her with steaming mugs of hot chocolate on a tray. Clay’s wife was a quietly pretty woman with light brown hair and green eyes. At first a surrogate mother to Abby, now she was her real mother. Clay didn’t talk about his ex-wife, Zoie—Celeste’s twin sister—very much, but Zack knew Zoie was now in and out of Abby’s life like a favorite aunt and they were all happy.
As soon as Celeste set the tray of hot chocolate mugs on a side table, Clay wrapped his arm around her. They did appear to be substantially happy.
Carrying an ivory china Christmas plate with painted poinsettias—Zack recognized it as one of his mom’s favorites—Jenny offered him a cookie. While he and Clay wrestled with the tree, Celeste, Jenny and Abby had been baking and decorating cookies. He now could choose from pink angels with yellow wings to blue stars with lots of sprinkles to a reindeer with green icing and an almost-red nose.
“You’ve been busy.”
Jenny’s gaze met his and for an instant, just an instant, he saw the intimate knowledge there of a man and woman who’d slept together. In a blink, it was gone and Jenny was making conversation as if that knowledge was something she wanted to forget.
“Did you tell Clay about your new project?” she asked Zack with enthusiasm that seemed a little bit too robust.
“He did,” Clay answered seriously. “I think our veterans need a documentary like that.”
“Look what I found,” Abby announced from across the room.
Cardboard boxes full of Christmas decorations were lined up against the sofa. Zack had carried them down this morning. One of the cartons was home for the Christmas lights, but the one Abby had opened held ornaments. She removed a porcelain ornament with a horse painted on it. When he spotted it, he wanted to snatch it from Abby and bury it in the box again. But he couldn’t, of course.
Celeste was running to her daughter saying, “Oh, be careful, honey.”
Zack rounded the other side of the box and crouched down beside Abby, sliding his large hand under the ornament. “That’s a very old one.”
“How old?” Abby asked.
“About sixteen years old. It was my Christmas present to my mom one year.”
“Where is your mommy?” Abby asked with all the innocence most children possessed.
Suddenly, Jenny was beside Abby, too, hunkering down beside Zack. When he seemed at a loss, she answered, “Zack’s mom is in heaven.”
“Where the angels are?” Abby asked.
“That’s right,” Celeste said gently. She pointed to the ornament to veer the conversation away from a sensitive topic. “And that was Zack’s mom’s favorite horse. One of his friends painted it for him so he could give it to her.”
“Brenna,” Jenny said remembering.
Zack remembered Brenna McDougall and the ornament and that Christmas that had seemed so special because he and Jenny had spent a lot of time together. His chest tightened and he concentrated on conversation that wasn’t so touchy.
“Did anyone talk to Brenna at the reunion?” he asked. “I caught sight of her dancing with Riley and was surprised.” There had been problems between the McDougalls and O’Rourkes and it had been an oddity to see Brenna and Riley together when they’d kept their distance in high school.
“I just talked to her for a little while,” Jenny said. “She has put all of her artistic talent to good use. She designs bridal gowns now, and is quite famous in her own right.”
Abby pointed to the ornament. “Can I hang this on the tree?”
Zack stepped in right away so no one else had to. “Sure you can. As soon as we get those lights attached. Just give us fifteen minutes and we’ll be ready for you.”
When Abby looked disappointed she couldn’t do it right away, Jenny reminded her, “We have to go roll those peanut butter balls in the chocolate chips.”
“Can I eat one?” Abby asked.
“Sounds like something we’ll all want to eat,” Clay said with a laugh.
“Jenny made the hot chocolate with real chocolate,” Celeste told her husband, “so I think you’ll like it. Don’t let it get cold.”
“I won’t. Like Zack said, just give us fifteen minutes
then we’ll be ready to decorate the tree.”
“Can we play carols?” Abby’s gaze targeted Zack because he seemed to be the one in charge.
Right now, he didn’t want to be the one in charge. This afternoon with Clay and Celeste and Abby was becoming more than he’d bargained for. Yet, he wouldn’t let down this little girl for anything.
“Sure, we can. I’ll bet Jenny has a stack of them somewhere.”
“From Elvis to Jewel,” Jenny assured Abby and crooked her finger at her. “Come on, I’ll show you where they are.”
Celeste followed Jenny and Abby out of the room and Zack found he was still holding the ornament.
“I’m sorry Abby got into the box,” Clay apologized.
Zack settled the ornament on the coffee table. “That’s what kids do—they explore. That will be just another ornament on the tree.”
Clay gave him a level look, but Zack ignored it just as he ignored the heart-lancing memories that he’d kept under lock and key for all these years.
A half hour later, Jenny and Celeste brought in not only more cookies to sample, but what Celeste called healthy food, too. There were veggies and dip, whole wheat crackers and cheese, barbecued meat on tiny sandwich rolls.
“We just did this backward,” Jenny said with a smile, and Zack could have kissed her, right then and there. Yet, something stopped him. Those walls around his heart? Other people in the room? Or disconcerting emotions he’d been battling all day?
Abby hung ornaments with enthusiasm, her soft brown curls bobbing around her face, the tiny red bow in her hair swinging as she tilted her head first one way then the other until she picked a perfect branch for each ornament. Jenny had found a CD player and set it on a table. Strains of “Rocking Around the Christmas Tree” were a backdrop to their conversation.
“I’m really having a great time putting together a family history with Clay’s mom,” Celeste told Zack. “The history of the Sullivans is fascinating. Did you ever think of interviewing your dad and capturing his memories on videotape?”
“I never did,” Zack admitted.
“Where is Silas?” Clay asked.
“He and Anna Conti went to dinner.”
When Clay’s eyebrows arched, Zack shrugged. “They’re old friends.”
While Zack’s fingers fumbled with some of the oldest ornaments that reminded him of days gone by, Clay revealed the process he was going through to interview potential partners for his wilderness guiding service.
“It has to be just the right person, not too bookish and not too extreme, someone who really gets along with people.”
“Would you consider a woman?” Jenny asked.
Clay shook his head. “I’d be more comfortable with a male partner.” He raised a hand before the women could protest. “That’s not just chauvinism. I don’t want misunderstandings.”
“Do you think I’d be jealous?” Celeste teased.
“Well, would you?” Clay joked back.
“That depends on what she looked like and how she acted around you.”
“See what I mean?” he muttered. “Besides that, this town’s too small to take any chances with gossip.”
Just then, Abby brought the porcelain horse ornament over to Zack. “Up, Uncle Zack! I wanna hang it on top.”
Uncle Zack. He liked the sound of that. “Okay, honey. Let’s see how high we can go.” He held her in his arms while Jenny looked on. He could see Jenny’s eyes mist up and he could only imagine what she was thinking. Their son or daughter would have made Christmas special, too.
Suddenly, a deep voice said from the doorway, “We hang that on the tree every year. Find a really good spot for it.”
Still holding Abby steady, Zack turned to see his father. Apparently, he remembered the ornament, too.
Everyone greeted Silas and then Abby asked, “Here?” as she tried the third branch in a row.
“Looks good,” Silas agreed.
She let the ornament swing from the branch.
Zack lowered her to the floor, kissed her forehead and said, “Good job. Now why don’t we see how everything looks all lit up?”
As “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” played on the CD player, Zack plugged in the lights. White twinkles danced all around the evergreen and the expression on Abby’s face was priceless. Her mouth rounded in a little O, and she just stared at the tree.
Finally, she looked at Clay. “Can we have one like this?”
“Maybe not quite as big as this, but I’ll see what I can do.”
Zack felt that tightness in his chest again. As his gaze met his dad’s, he saw a look of longing on his father’s face. What was that about? Regrets? He certainly had a trunkful of his own. Maybe the way he’d handled his father all these years was in that stack.
Crossing to him, Jenny asked in a low voice, “What do you think of Christmas now?”
Her soft brown eyes seemed to try to see into his very soul. He’d never felt closer to her or more distant from her and that was crazy.
“I think Christmas is what we make it. We can’t expect too much of it or we’ll be disappointed.”
She looked disappointed in what he’d said and he suddenly wished he could take it back. Because the truth was—this afternoon maybe he’d understood the true meaning of Christmas. Yet, if he’d told her that, he’d feel too damn vulnerable. And that was the last thing he wanted to feel around Jenny right now.
Jenny made her rounds of the horses almost every night before she turned in. It was a ritual that was necessary not only for her peace of mind, but for Silas’s, too. They both had their favorites and that last check of the night told them all was well. Hank, Tate and Ben were always on the alert for problems, though they usually had an apple or carrot stick in their pocket for a bit of conversation with their favorite horse, too. Jenny’s walk through the barns was a labor of love that sometimes cut into her sleeping time.
Tonight, however, she had a lot on her mind. The day had been brimming with emotion, from making cookies with Abby, watching her hang Olivia’s ornament on the Christmas tree, to seeing the lights go on and everyone’s response to them. Silas had been super quiet after his return home. Zack had seemed not so much remote as just very far away. Still, whenever their eyes met or their fingers brushed, the smoking hot electricity between them didn’t quit. For her, the idea of his leaving again created an even deeper hole in her heart than the one he’d left so many years ago. She loved him now with a woman’s love and still wasn’t sure what that meant. Should she grab every moment she could with him? Should she go with him to California and leave the Rocky D? How could Silas ever manage without her?
Letting herself into Songbird’s stall, lowering herself to the fresh straw, she asked the horse, who was her closest friend in the stable, “What should I do, Songbird?”
In a corner of the stall, Songbird munched from her feedbox. Jenny could really use a little input. When her horse’s soft brown eyes seemed to study her with old-soul wisdom, Jenny asked, “You think I should grab love when I can, don’t you?”
Songbird gave a soft whinny.
“And just where would that leave you if I took off for the luxurious life?”
She remembered the premiere and the paparazzi, the lights and the questions, the designer gowns and the glittering jewels.
The barn’s night creaks and rustlings were interrupted by the outside door opening and then closing.
She hoped it was Zack. She stayed put, knowing if he wanted to find her, he would.
But it wasn’t Zack who peeked over the stall. It was Silas. “I thought I’d find you here.”
She pushed herself up from the straw. “I came out here to think.”
“Accomplishing anything?”
“Not much.”
“I bet all your thoughts surround my son.”
“Most of them,” she admitted. “Can I ask you something?”
“You know you can.”
“You knew us both back
then. If I had gone with Zack, do you think we would have made it? Do you think we’d still be together?”
Silas unlatched the stall door so Jenny could step out, then he closed it again. “Olivia and I talked about the two of you.”
At Jenny’s raised brows, he said, “We didn’t fight all the time, in spite of the way Zack remembers it.”
“What if I had left with him? What if I had found out I was pregnant after I was gone when we were together out there? Would he still have been so hell-bent against marriage? Would he have tried to be a father? Could I have been a good mother?”
“Whoa,” Silas said, holding up both hands. “Let’s take a bit broader look. Zack was determined to succeed so he could wipe my face in it…so he could see his mother’s approval. If you had gone with him, I believe he would have wanted you to be part of that, whether a baby was in the mix or not. So then the question becomes—what would have happened through the hard years? Personally, I think you’re just as determined as he is. I think you would have stood by him and become the kind of woman who knows how to hold a family together. That’s what I believe, Jenny. Both of you have grit and motivation. I’ve seen it. And let’s face it, you had a lot of feelings that needed a place to grow.”
“I’m the one who spoiled everything. If I had taken the risk and said yes, I might have the child and family I’d always wanted.”
“How would you have felt if Zack hadn’t wanted to marry you, even with a baby? Out there, propriety isn’t what it is here.”
“I don’t know how I would have dealt with that. I really don’t know. I guess it would have depended if we were the substance of his life, or on the periphery of it…if he was there to promote himself and his career and the life he wanted to make, or if he was really there to take us along with him.”
“See? You don’t have the answers and you never will. The only way you’ll have answers is to do something and take the consequences, whatever they are, and work with them.”
As Silas studied her, she felt self-conscious. “What?” she asked.
“I know what you’re worrying about.”
“I have so many worries you couldn’t even begin to count them.”
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