Overjoyed with the treasures he found including a nutcracker, Jacob took particular interest in a Santa figurine with a sleigh and eight reindeer as well as a little ceramic Christmas tree that lit up with tiny colored lights. He’d carried it off to his room. When Kaley tucked him in, she left the light glowing softly as he fell asleep.
For the first time since she’d moved into the house, it looked festive and cheerful. Most of the reason for that stemmed from the efforts of the handsome man who smiled at her from where he leaned one muscled forearm against the mantle while he drank a cup of hot chocolate.
Overwhelmed with gratitude, tears pricked her eyes. “Cort, you’ve made everything so special.” The emotion she couldn’t suppress made her voice catch as she set her mug of chocolate on the coffee table. A deep calming breath allowed her to continue. “You’ve made everything so much better around here since you came. There’s nothing I can do or say to express how grateful I am to you.”
He placed his mug next to hers on the coffee table, took a seat beside her, and wrapped his arms around her. Willing her to relax, he kissed the top of her head and rubbed his hands soothingly up and down her arm.
The day had been one of the best he’d experienced in a long time. Time spent with Jacob filled him with happiness and contentment.
Despite his inability to speak, the little boy rarely had a problem communicating. As smart as a whip, as Cort’s grandfather used to say, Jacob quickly learned new words and used them in his little notepad. Even if the words were often misspelled, he at least got his point or question across.
It was hard to tell if Kaley or Jacob had been more excited about the boxes of decorations he’d brought in. One of them was full of tree ornaments Kaley set aside to open later, when they put up a tree. As they opened the other boxes, she found a place to put every single decoration.
The excitement on their faces as they set out the decorations gave him a bigger thrill than winning the title at the rodeo finals last year.
Cort contemplated the significance of that realization, deciding that everything happened for a reason. The feeling he was meant to be at the Hanging P, helping two people who had borne more than their share of sorrow discover their holiday spirit, gave him a contented confidence.
Thoroughly impressed with the things Kaley created that day, he glanced around the room again. In the glow from the fire, the space looked cozy and Christmassy.
“How did you find time to make all this stuff today?” Cort picked up one of the new pillows on the couch. He liked the simple red and green plaid print. It added a festive touch without frills and fuss. “Where did you get the ideas?”
“I’ve always liked crafts and did them when I could.” Kaley glanced at the jars on the coffee table. “I found most of the ideas on Pinterest.”
“So you’re a Pinterest junkie, huh?” Cort teased. His sister often mentioned things she discovered on the social media site. “Did you make the letters on the fireplace? I like the glitter on the edges. It’s perfect for the word ‘snow’ and it looks nice up there with the garland.”
“I bought the letters, but painted them and added the glitter.” She basked in Cort’s praise. He’d already admired the new curtain in the kitchen and all the touches she added there.
Jacob had jumped up and down and clapped his hands when she explained about the advent calendar. She hoped he could wait a few more days until December to uncover the first surprise.
Cort asked her about all the things she’d done that day and Kaley told him about each project. She couldn’t believe he’d paid attention to so many little details. The few times she tried to make something nice or decorative when Dean was alive, he either failed to notice or took her to task for wasting time on “useless, dumb projects.”
Snuggling closer to Cort, she listened to the steady thumping of his heart beneath her ear. His manly, musky scent teased her nose while his hands, those big yet gentle hands, ignited sparks of longing where they brushed up and down her arm.
As he turned his head, he noticed the birdcage on the table. “I know you didn’t make that. Is it a music box?”
“Yeah, it is.” She slipped out of the comforting circle of his arms to wind the key and make the bird sing.
When it chirped, Cort smiled and leaned over to pick it up. Carefully holding it, he examined it then set it back on the table. “I’d say that is an antique with some value.”
“I don’t know if it’s worth anything, but it means a lot to me because it was my grandma’s.” Kaley stared wistfully at the bird.
“Tell me about her,” Cort prompted, putting his arm around her and pulling her close again.
“There’s not much to tell. All I know about her came in an old cardboard shoebox.”
Cort gave her a bewildered look.
She nervously toyed with a strand of her hair before clearing her throat. “From what the various caseworkers let slip through the years, my mother ran away from home when she was fifteen, had me when she was sixteen, and overdosed when she was twenty-one. My father is an unknown mystery and from what little I remember of my mother, it could have been anyone. By the time they tracked down my grandparents, they’d both died.”
Now that she started sharing her story, she needed to tell the whole thing. She’d never even told Dean all the details, fearful of what he and Ed would think.
In the deep recesses of her heart, she knew she could tell Cort because she trusted him. Through the telling, she hoped to reclaim a portion of what had been lost to her at such a young age.
“I was about Jacob’s age when my mother died. I can remember that day as if it just happened. My mother, she insisted I call her Steph, left me home alone, like she often did. I liked it better when she was gone. When she was at our apartment, it was usually with a man. If they weren’t… um… you know… they drank a lot. I’m not sure she spent any of my childhood sober. I got up that morning and she wasn’t there, hadn’t come home the previous night. I put on a blue dress that someone gave us in a donation box. It had little flowers stitched on the front, which was why I liked it. It was one of the few pretty things in my world. I remember eating a bowl of cold cereal with no milk because we were out and drawing pictures on an old newspaper with a few crayon stubs. Someone knocked on the door and when I didn’t answer, the police came in and told me I had to go with them.”
“Oh, Kaley.” Cort kissed her temple and drew her tighter against him, wanting to take away the pain of her past. How could any parent treat a child the way her mother had treated her?
“The policemen were kind and let me fill a bag they found in Steph’s room with my things. Steph had a shoebox she’d said was important because it had been my grandmother’s. She kept it under my bed because I don’t think she trusted herself or the men she brought home not to do something with it. I stuffed the box in my bag, along with the few clothes I had and the one toy I owned, a plush bear that had seen better days.”
Kaley grew quiet, so Cort held her, waiting for her to continue her story. After a lengthy pause, she found her voice again.
“We were in Seattle then and I got stuck in the foster care system, moving from house to house. Some of them weren’t so bad, but others weren’t much better than Steph had been. When I was nine, I spent a few weeks with a couple who thought they could beat the devil out of me. They were convinced only an evil child would be in the system. The caseworker found out and moved me again.”
The more Kaley talked, the tighter Cort’s gut clenched. He’d thought his life was over because he’d hurt his knee and couldn’t steer wrestle any more. That seemed incredibly insignificant as Kaley poured out the painful story of her childhood.
He’d grown up with a loving family that supported him and friends like Tate who encouraged him. He’d never been hungry a day in his life, never wanted for anything he truly needed, never had to suffer.
And he’d never fully appreciated how blessed he’d been until that moment.
> “Then what happened?”
“It was right after my tenth birthday they placed me with a younger couple, Randy and Jennifer. I was their first foster child. They wanted to have a baby, but for some reason couldn’t, so they decided to try foster care before they looked into adopting. They treated me well, although they belonged to some religion that believed in a bunch of weird stuff. For the first time, I felt like I had a real home. Jennifer taught me how to cook, bake and sew. She’s the one who started my interest in crafts. She helped me learn all the skills required for cleaning and caring for a home as well as gardening. Randy showed me how to change the oil in the car and taught me how to play baseball. When I was fifteen, Jennifer found out she was expecting. After the baby arrived, everything changed. Randy no longer wanted me there, providing a potentially bad influence for their baby. I went back into the system and gave up for a while. I lived on the streets, hanging out with the wrong kids, doing things I wish I hadn’t. The police knew me on a first-name basis.”
Kaley sighed and sat up, wanting to gauge Cort’s reaction to what she’d shared. Sorrow, acceptance, and love shined back at her from his silvery eyes, giving her the courage she needed to finish the story.
“The last time they picked me up for attempting to shoplift, my caseworker arranged for me to be moved from the area rather than go to a juvenile detention center. I arrived in Kennewick just before school started my senior year. The first person I met when I walked inside the school was Dean. He wasn’t the most handsome or athletic or popular boy, but he was the only one who said hello and made me feel welcome. We sometimes ate lunch together. He eventually asked me on a date and we started going steady. A few months after graduation, Dean proposed. Not having any other direction for my life, I accepted.”
“You got married when you were only eighteen?”
“Yep. I sure did. In retrospect, it wasn’t the best choice I ever made.”
“You did what you had to do to survive.” Cort couldn’t fathom being married so young. At eighteen, he and Tate were still running wild and free. If he admitted the truth, he’d still been running wild and free up until Tate suggested he come work for Kaley. “Besides, if you hadn’t married Dean, you wouldn’t have Jacob.”
“He’s worth anything I had to go through to have him in my life.” Kaley brushed at a lone tear that slipped down her cheek.
Watching her wipe away that glistening drop nearly broke Cort’s heart in two. “Was it hard, getting married that young?”
“It was hard and Dean didn’t exactly try to make things any easier. We didn’t even have a real wedding. Dean, Todd, and Ed picked me up at my foster home and we went to a justice of the peace. Dean gave me a single rose he’d cut from his mother’s garden and we got married wearing jeans. He gave me his mother’s ring, but I thought it was creepy to wear it, so I told him when we got home that I didn’t want to lose it, put it in a drawer, and left it there.”
Cort continued staring at her, trying to process everything she’d told him. “What about Dean’s mother?”
“I met his mom a few times when Dean and I were dating. She always seemed quiet and subdued. After I married Dean and moved out here, I understood why. Ed did not hold a high opinion of women and thought females existed to keep house, cook food, and make babies. Dean insisted we live here with them when we wed and I quickly learned what the Peters men expected of me. Dean didn’t want me to have thoughts of my own, speak my opinion, or join in any conversations. Just cook, clean, and be a submissive wife.”
Kaley picked up her mug of chocolate and took a sip of the now cold drink before getting to her feet. She walked around the coffee table so she could gaze out the window at the lights glowing against the snow. The sight made her heart ache for all the years of holiday joy she’d missed.
“Todd was two years younger than Dean. He liked to laugh and joke and made living here bearable. Ed was always yelling at him about one thing or another. As soon as he graduated from high school, he enlisted and left. Dean became more and more like his father. When Jacob was born, the two of them strutted around as if they’d done all the work themselves. Other than boasting about adding another boy to the Peters line, they ignored him until he was potty trained. When he turned three, they started taking him out with them to chore and sometimes he tagged along when they went to town. I begged Dean not to take Jacob the day they were in the accident, but he told me to mind my own business and left with a sneer on his face. That was the last time I saw him.”
Cort stood and walked behind her, pulling her back into his strength. His heart skipped a beat when she allowed herself to relax against him.
“As bad as it sounds, I’m not sad that Dean and Ed are gone. I never wished they’d die or anything, it’s just that Ed was such a mean-spirited, spiteful person and Dean was on his way to being just like him.” Tears fell freely down Kaley’s cheeks. “I didn’t want them influencing my sweet little boy.”
He turned her around and she buried her face against his solid chest, crying out all the pain, anger, disappointment, and grief she’d stored up throughout her lifetime.
When he moved she had no idea, but as her sobs finally subsided, she found herself sitting across his lap on the couch. He rubbed her back with a comforting hand and murmured encouraging words in her ear.
“Better now?”
She used the flat of her hands to wipe at her damp cheeks.
Keeping an arm around her, he lifted one hip and dug a handkerchief out of his back pocket and handed it to her. “It’s clean. I haven’t even used it today.”
She smiled and took it from him, mopping her wet cheeks and swiping at her nose. Mortified that she’d broken down like that, especially in front of Cort, she pushed away from him.
“It’s okay, Kaley.” With an insight that surprised him, Cort recognized her instinct to run away now that she’d bared her soul. However, he had no plans to let her go anywhere. “I think you needed to get all that out before you can move on. I’m sorry life has been so hard for you.”
“I don’t want your pity, Cort. Everything happens for a reason, and I believe that.” Kaley breathed deeply. The heavy burden that weighed on her chest for years suddenly felt much lighter.
“What was in your grandmother’s box? You never said.” He gently tugged her back down until she rested with her head on his chest.
“That little music box, a few family photos, and recipes. There was a photo of my mother with my grandparents. The only reason I know their identities is from the names written on the back. There were also a few letters from my grandmother, begging my mother to come home. It also contained an old Bible. After I married Dean, that Bible became my lifeline. Grandma underlined many passages and wrote notes in it that helped me understand about forgiveness, grace, and hope, although I’m still working on accepting those into my life. It also had a page in the back with my family history. From what I could tell, Grandma must have sent the box to my mother after she’d run away, because my name had been added in the family records.”
“So what is your full name?”
“Kaley Catherine Cordova. Grandma’s name was Grace. I promised myself if I ever have a daughter, she’ll be named after her. My grandfather’s name was Jacob, although I never imparted that detail to Dean. I told him it was a strong, manly name so he and Ed both agreed.”
“Aren’t you the sneaky one, Miss Kaley Catherine? I’ll have to keep a close eye on you or who knows what you’ll sneak past me.” Cort offered her a cocky grin, hoping to tease a smile out of her.
The corners of her mouth lifted and her eyes sparkled with more than tears.
“Thank you, Cort, for listening to my story and letting me cry all over you. You must think I’m an emotional, crazy mess.” She attempted to move off his lap again, wanting to hide in her bedroom.
“Not at all.” His index finger tenderly pushed her chin up until she looked into his face. “I think you’re a very strong person who needs to open h
erself to the new opportunities waiting for her just around the corner.”
“New opportunities?” she asked. Before Cort arrived on her doorstep, she’d given up hope that anything good would ever happen to her. Now, she believed anything was possible.
“That’s right. Go wash your face so you’ll feel better then come right back so you can embrace one of those new opportunities.” Cort set her on her feet and gave her a nudge forward.
Kaley walked down the hall to her room and splashed her face with cool water. After dabbing it dry, she stared into the mirror and grinned. In a moment of pure vanity, she applied a fresh coat of mascara and spritzed on a little perfume. She released her hair from the confines of the braid she'd worn all day, finger combing the waves, and stuck her tongue out at her image before hurrying back to the living room.
While she was gone, Cort removed his tear-soaked shirt, pushed the coffee table against the couch and found some Christmas music on his phone, playing it softly in the background.
With only the light from the fire and the Christmas lights reflecting in the window from outside, the room welcomed her with a soft, enchanting glow.
“What are you doing?” she asked, stepping into the room and accepting the hand he held out to her.
“Isn’t it obvious? I’m dancing with a beautiful woman in the firelight.” Cort’s husky voice sent tendrils of pleasure spiraling through her as he pulled her forward and wrapped his free hand around her back, moving slowly to the music.
“I don’t know how to dance,” she admitted, stiffening as she tried to pull away. She’d never learned how to dance and it had never mattered, until now.
“Not to worry. You’re dancing with a pro.” Cort raised an eyebrow and gave her an inviting smile. “Just follow my lead and let yourself go. I’ll do the rest.”
Part of Kaley wanted run back to her room. The other part of her wanted to melt against Cort and never let go.
Relaxing, she felt him step a little closer and closed her eyes as she rested her head on the soft fabric of his undershirt. He was right. The right kind of thermals didn’t itch. In fact, the fabric felt incredibly good against her cheek.
Wrestlin' Christmas: (Sweet Western Holiday Romance) (Rodeo Romance Book 2) Page 17