To his astonishment, Drew—who had co-opted gift delivery to each recipient—handed Carson a small pile of presents.
“They’re from us,” Hayden said, when Carson continued to stare at the gifts.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“We wanted to,” Jenna assured him. “The children and I wanted to thank you for helping us so much these last few days.”
They all smiled at him and he swallowed hard and turned to the presents. There were three, each rather clumsily wrapped. Jenna couldn’t have done it with her broken wrist so he guessed the boys had pitched in.
The first one he picked up was heavy. He weighed it in his hands and frowned, trying to figure out what it might be. “Is it a rock?” he asked.
Kip giggled. “Open it! Open it!”
He peeled the paper away carefully, aware of an odd need to savor the moment. He opened the plain brown cardboard box and started to laugh. “It is a rock!”
“It’s a fossil,” Drew informed him. “We looked it up after we found it and it’s a trilobite. Cool, huh?”
“We thought maybe you could use it as a paperweight, if you want to,” Hayden said.
“We found it in the arroyo above the creek bed at the ranch a few summers ago,” Jenna added. “There’s a really great spot for fossils there.”
“We can show you sometime if you want,” Drew said.
He forced a smile, immeasurably touched. “That would be great.”
“Mister, present!” Jolie pointed to the other two on his lap. The next one was cylindrical and light and he decided not to try to guess.
It was a soup-size can, he saw when he tore the paper, covered in masking-tape pieces and some sort of brown polish that made it look like leather.
“When did you have time to do all this?” he asked Jenna with some astonishment.
“When you went back to Raven’s Nest for an hour or so to check in with Neil Parker yesterday when Dr. Dalton was here, remember? We made it then.”
He cleared his throat, astounded at the thick emotion welling up inside him for a humble little pencil holder.
The third one was the most unexpected of all. It was the size of a deck of cards and about the same shape. When he tore the paper, he found a slim white box. Inside nestled on a small piece of cotton batting was a bolo tie with a black leather string and a smooth, flat iridescent green stone in the middle.
“It was one of my dad’s,” Hayden said. “He had a lot. He collected ’em and this one was broken, see, the front fell off. My mom was gonna throw it away but when we were looking for gifts for you yesterday, she remembered it so we fixed it with a polished rock.”
“The stone is jasper and it came from the ranch,” Jenna told him. “We found it several years ago on the hillside right about where you built your house. I always thought it was so pretty. The boys and I polished it along with some others a few years ago and I’ve kept it in my jewelry box, hoping I could find something to do with it someday. It fits perfectly on the tie, don’t you think?”
He couldn’t speak as emotions crowded through him, fast and fierce, so thick he could barely breathe around them.
He looked at Jenna, so lovely and bright, and her children, all watching him out of smiling green eyes that matched the stone on the tie, and his throat seemed to clog up. To his horror, he felt tears burn behind his eyes.
He felt as if all the careful protections he had erected around his heart had just melted to nothing like a snow fort under a blazing summer sun.
In the midst of their chaotic Christmas preparations—and Jenna dealing with a broken wrist and sprained ankle—they had taken time to make him such precious gifts.
He couldn’t comprehend it. He gazed at them all and memories crowded through his head. Of Jolie falling asleep in his arms, of Kip telling him knock-knock jokes and laughing so hard at his own punch lines that Carson couldn’t understand his words, of Drew swimming like a smart little fish in his pool.
Of Hayden standing a little taller and straightening his shoulders in his plaid pajamas as he read the sweet and joyful Christmas story from the Bible that had been his father’s.
He loved them. All of them.
Especially their mother. She had kissed him and laughed with him and shared secrets and he had fallen head over heels with her gentleness and her sweetness and the nurturing care she showed to everyone, even when she was injured and needed it herself.
His gaze met Jenna’s. Her smile had slid away and she watched him out of careful, wary eyes. He couldn’t bring himself to reassure her, to smile and pretend everything was all right.
It wasn’t. He loved her and he wanted her—wanted this—so much it was a physical ache in his chest.
He let out a breath. How the hell had he let this happen in just a few short days? He had spent his entire adult life protecting himself from just this, from coming to care so much, from knowing this heavy, bitter ache in his chest, as if his heart was being flayed open and dragged behind a team of horses.
He couldn’t bear it. Suddenly he felt seven years old again, living in a scary flophouse, wondering what terrible thing he had done that year that had been so unforgiveable Santa Claus didn’t come yet again, even though he had prayed and prayed and tried his best to be good.
Worse even than that memory was his tenth year, the year after he had spent Christmas with his grandparents and learned how magical the holidays could be.
His mother had taken him away from that, though, and on Christmas she was too high to even remember he was there. He had warmed up the last can of soup in the house for their Christmas dinner and dripped tears into it as he ate it, even though he was ten and too old to cry, remembering the lavish feast his grandmother had made the year before.
He had a terrible fear that next Christmas and every December twenty-fifth for the rest of his life would be like his tenth, only now he would compare them all to this perfect day spent with Jenna’s family.
Noisy and chaotic and wonderful.
The year he learned what it meant to be part of a family.
What it meant to love.
The years stretched out ahead of him, barren and cold, and he didn’t know what the hell to do about it.
“You don’t like them?” Kip’s subdued voice pierced his thoughts and Carson realized he must have been staring at the gifts for a long time without saying anything.
He jerked his gaze up to find them all watching him with various expression on their faces—Jenna looked concerned and the boys’ expressions were cautious and a little hurt.
He cleared his throat. He had to say something. He couldn’t leave them hanging like this. “I love them. All of them. The pencil holder and paperweight are both going right on my desk at McRaven Enterprises and I’m going to wear the tie the day I return to work. Thank you all so much.”
The boys seemed to accept his words and their features relaxed but Jenna continued to watch him out of eyes that had turned a dark green with concern.
He forced a smile, though he was quite certain it didn’t make it as far as his eyes. But Kip complained he was starving now that they were done with presents and he wanted to eat. Jenna became distracted as the others joined the chorus and the moment passed.
He had to leave, he realized as she headed into the kitchen. Now, as soon as he could. He couldn’t let this family sneak any deeper into his heart. It was already going to hurt like hell trying to go on without them all.
Early in his business career, he had learned there came a time when a man had to cut his losses and walk away while he could.
That time was now.
Something was drastically wrong with Carson. Jenna could see it in his eyes.
She had no idea why the simple gifts she and the children had managed to cobble together for him at the last minute would have merited the bleakness that had entered his expression. He had looked devastated by them and she wished she had never come up with the idea.
She frette
d about it as she warmed the oven for the sweet rolls and the farmer’s breakfast casserole she had thawed the night before, grateful all over again that she always kept her freezer well stocked.
She was measuring the ingredients for the maple cream frosting she smeared on her sweet rolls when she glanced up and found Carson standing in the doorway, his Stetson in his hands and his ranch jacket on.
“I have to go,” he said, his voice solemn but those blue eyes deep with emotions she couldn’t begin to guess at.
She frowned. “Go where?”
“I gave Bill and Melina the day off so I’ve got to go take care of the Raven’s Nest horses.”
“Oh, of course. Do you need help? I could send Hayden up with you.”
“No,” he said, his voice abrupt.
“Okay. Um, I was thinking of moving dinner up to two since we all got up so early. Will you be done by then?”
His gaze met hers and she thought she saw something flicker in his gaze, something almost anguished, but it was gone too quickly for her to be sure. “Probably not.”
“We can push it back later. That’s no problem.”
She was grasping at straws, she realized, desperate to avoid accepting the inevitable, that he was leaving.
“Don’t worry about me, Jen.” His tone was determinedly casual, though she was almost positive it was an act. “I’ll just grab a bite up at the house. You’re getting around okay, aren’t you? You don’t really need me anymore.”
Everything inside her cried out an objection to that. She did need him. Far more than she dared admit. “My ankle feels much better today.” That, at least, was the truth. “Thank you again for helping us through the worst of it.”
His hands traced the brim of his hat and he looked as if he wanted to say something but he only nodded.
Something was definitely wrong. She could see a distance on his features that hadn’t been there that morning. What had put it there? The chaos of the morning, maybe? Or their humble, haphazard gifts?
Really, who gave the CEO of a major technology innovation firm a pencil holder made from a soup can?
Her mind replayed that stunning, tender kiss the night before and the emotions that had swirled around them, between them. Had she imagined the magic of it all?
No. That had been real enough. But Carson had made it perfectly plain that while he might be attracted to her, he didn’t want everything that came with her. Wet diapers, runny noses, noisy kids, preteens with truculent attitudes.
He was saying goodbye. She didn’t need him to spell it out for her to understand just what this was. He was leaving, returning to his real life, and she could do nothing about it.
“So I guess I’ll see you around,” he said.
“Okay.” She forced a smile that felt too fake, too wide. “Merry Christmas, Carson.”
Again that strange something flickered in his eyes but he only nodded. “Same to you.”
Without another word, he turned and walked out the door.
Jenna waited for the door to close before she pressed a fist to the hollow ache in her stomach.
He was saying goodbye. Not just for today, she knew. He wouldn’t be back. She might bump into him occasionally since he was her nearest neighbor but they would revert to a polite acquaintance again, not the closer friendship they had shared these last few days.
Friendship? That was far too mild a term. She pressed a fist to her stomach again, to the tangled knot of nerves inside her and realized exactly what had happened.
She was in love with him.
With Carson McRaven, CEO of McRaven Enterprises.
How could she have been stupid enough to let this happen?
Falling in love with Joe had seemed so natural. Inevitable, even. They had been good friends in high school but hadn’t dated until the summer before her senior year of college. Almost from the first, everything had seemed just right. Everyone said they were perfect for each other and Jenna had thought so, as well.
This torrent of feelings inside her for Carson was different. This wasn’t perfect. It scraped at her emotions like jagged stones dragged by a flash flood and she wanted to sit on the floor of her kitchen and weep.
Still, she knew it was love. The only surprise was that she had taken so long to recognize it. She supposed she had been headed there for days, from the moment he showed up on her doorstep looking so completely out of his depth with a crying Kip in his arms.
Oh, what a disaster. Could she see any possible outcome from it other than heartbreak? He wasn’t interested in a family and that’s all she was, all she cared about.
Her broken wrist ached suddenly but it was nothing compared to the ache in her chest she knew no painkiller from a bottle would ease.
It was Christmas, blast it. Blast him. This was a time of peace, of hope. How could she feel so very miserable?
She couldn’t let herself wallow in the heartache or all the pain she knew lay ahead. It was Christmas and she had promised her children the best possible holiday.
Somehow she made it through the rest of the day. The children played with their new toys and watched a couple of DVDs and ate Christmas dinner.
The only time she came close to losing it was when Hayden asked her after breakfast when Carson would come back, since he wanted to play a new video game he’d gotten from Santa with him.
When she told the boys he had gone back to Raven’s Nest, all of them had been crushed. Jenna had quickly tried to distract them, but it hadn’t been easy.
Now, Jolie was asleep and the boys were close to it, exhausted from the day and especially the excitement leading up to it. She tucked them in, hugging them all a little tighter tonight in her gratitude that at least she had this.
“Will Mr. McRaven be back, Mom?” Drew asked, a solemn expression on his features. “I really like him.”
Oh, she wished she could take away every disappointment her children had to face in this world. They had all come to care for Carson and would miss him and there was nothing she could do to make it better.
She forced a smile as she brushed a lock of hair away from his forehead. She pressed her lips to the skin the hair had covered. “I’m sure we’ll see him again. He lives just up the hill.”
“Sometimes. Most of the time he’s in California, though.”
She let out a breath. “True enough. But he’ll be here sometimes and we can see him then.”
She kissed Kip and closed their bedroom door, wondering what would be worse—never seeing him again or occasionally catching glimpses of him from afar and knowing she could never have him?
When she returned downstairs, she discovered Pat had gone to bed, as well. They were to take her home the next morning and Jenna purposely had avoided using pain pills all day so they would be out of her system when she had to drive to Idaho Falls.
Aspirin didn’t quite cut it against the pain and her wrist throbbed. She told herself that was why she felt so close to tears, but she wasn’t really convinced.
Now that the children were asleep and she didn’t have the benefit of the distraction they provided, all the loneliness and sorrow she had suppressed all day came rushing back.
As she picked up the last straggling bits of wrapping paper and toy packaging in the living room, her mind replayed the last few days with Carson and a hundred memories washed through her. Sharing hot cocoa with him while the rest of the house slept. His awkward efforts to put Jolie’s diaper on. Seeing him in front of the stove scrubbing off dried macaroni and cheese.
That shattering kiss they had shared the night before while the Christmas tree lights twinkled and snowflakes drifted down outside.
How was she going to get through this?
She wiped at her tears. She had to. She had children who counted on her. She couldn’t just take time off to wallow in self-pity and loneliness. She gave a heavy sigh and moved to unplug the Christmas tree when she suddenly spied headlights cutting through the dark night.
She frowned, eve
n as her heart quivered in her chest. She peered through the window. It was too dark to tell if it was his black Suburban, but she couldn’t imagine anyone else who might be showing up at her house this late.
Of course, she couldn’t imagine why Carson might be here, either. But she could always hope.
A moment later, she heard a knock. Her heart pounded as she looked through the peephole.
Carson stood on the other side in his Stetson and ranch coat, his arms loaded with a huge box and an almost wary expression on his ruggedly handsome features.
She jerked the door open. “Carson! What on earth?”
His gaze met hers but she couldn’t read his expression. “I didn’t have anything for you and your kids. Let me set this down. I’ve got more in the truck.”
She was so gloriously happy to see him, she wanted to limp after him in the snow and throw her arms around him.
On the other hand, she feared seeing him would only make her heart hurt more when he left again.
“How did you manage all this?” she asked when he came inside again. “The stores are closed on Christmas Day. Where did you possibly find one that was open?”
She thought she saw a hint of color climb his cheeks. “San Francisco.”
Her jaw dropped. “What?”
He glanced up the stairs. “I guess the kids are in bed.”
“Yes. I’m sorry.”
“That’s okay. They can open their gifts tomorrow. Well, good night. Merry Christmas.” He reached for the door handle.
“Wait!” she exclaimed. “You can’t just drop all this off and then leave. Aren’t you going to explain to me what’s going on?”
“Nothing. I just brought you and the kids some presents. I felt bad that I didn’t have anything for you today.” He paused. “You might as well go ahead and open it.”
“Um, okay.” She didn’t understand any of this. She only knew she was desperately happy to see him and right now she would do anything he asked of her if it would only make him stay a little longer.
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