Chapter Eighteen
Caleb paused before stepping outside, the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree drawing him forward as surely as they had when he’d been a little tyke.
He stood in the silence, the living room filled with a candlelight glow from another line of lights crossing the mantle. Shiny silver ribbon twinkled, and he glanced back toward the tree.
A third look—he wasn’t sure how he’d spotted them because even though they were noticeable, they weren’t that big.
There were new ornaments hanging on the tree. Right there at little girl height where Sasha and Emma would be sure to see them. Silver ribbon in tight, precise bows that declared Tamara’s handiwork as loudly as if she’d signed her name.
He didn’t know how the hell she’d done it, but she had. In the time between their soul-stealing-kiss-filled evening and this morning, Tamara had found baby pictures and made new ornaments with their names in block letters, stars and stripes and glitter and all the shimmering doodads a little girl could possibly want. It didn’t matter that they were babies, and barely recognizable from any other newborn, it was clear this one was Emma, this one was Sasha. Pinks and purples, blues and silver.
Caleb felt his throat tighten again.
He wandered in a bit of a haze as he did his chores, the familiar feel of the animals bumping shoulders with him as he added feed to their pails a nice, mindless task.
The whirlwind of emotions in his gut was far too big to think on straight. He had to kind of come at it sideways. Maybe sneak up on it.
He’d told Tamara last night that they couldn’t get involved. And that was true—and an affair was out of the question because the last thing he needed was the girls falling in love with Tamara and her breaking their hearts.
Your heart couldn’t take it too well either, his brain pointed out.
But what if she was to be more? What if she was willing to become a permanent mom to the girls?
What if he was ready to risk his heart?
He patted Stormy on the side of the neck. “What’d you think?”
Stormy dipped his head and blew a snort of air.
Caleb smiled. “Yeah. Me too.”
“I thought that was Josiah’s job, talking with the animals,” Walker drawled, resting his arms on top of the gate. “But I guess as long as he doesn’t talk back, I won’t get too worried.”
Caleb glanced at his brother. “Don’t you have work to do?”
Walker shook his head. “It’s Christmas morning, bro. Just the normal tasks, and I’m nearly done. I promised Tamara I’d come to the house and help with cooking dinner.”
“Don’t bother. I’ll help her.”
Walker stepped aside as Caleb brushed past him, returning buckets to the shelf where they were stored.
“Do you know?” Walker asked out of the blue.
Caleb twisted. “Know what?”
A little of Walker’s belligerence faded. “You do know. That’s why you’re such a miserable son of a bitch these days.”
Caleb debated telling his brother to mind his own business. God, his brothers were like the old, crusty ranchers hanging out on the front porch of the mercantile, i.e., the worst type of gossips. “Why’d you come home?”
Walker blinked in surprise. “Oh, no you don’t. This isn’t about me—”
“Why isn’t it? Didn’t expect to see you until a few days before the holiday, if then, and for you to be back out the first minute you could. Instead, I heard you might be sticking around until the spring.” Caleb eyed Walker closer. “What happened?”
Walker folded his arms as he leaned against the rough wood slats of the barn. “You’ve never got much to say except when you decide it’s time to grill one of us. I figure that’s kind of special. You know, that you break out the words, and all.”
Caleb waited.
“You’re such a bastard,” Walker complained.
Huh. He hadn’t been sure until that moment, but it was obvious something had happened.
“What’s wrong?” Caleb asked softer. “You’ve always got a home here. And if there’s anything I can do to help, it’s yours.”
Walker dipped his head. “I know. And hey, I came back, didn’t I? I know how much you care, in spite of you not talking up a storm.”
“But you’re not going to tell me anything more…”
“You ready to admit your secrets, bro?”
They stared sheepishly at each other. Stalemate. Nothing to admit until he’d figured out the next step, preferably with Tamara.
Silence surrounded Caleb on the walk to the house, the icy winter air slicing into his lungs, sharp and painful. At the same time, the world sparkled. Crisp and shiny, the fresh-fallen snow painted the landscape clean.
Stepping into the kitchen was like walking into a hug, the house filled with all sorts of delicious scents and the low murmur of voices.
An excited squeal accompanied Emma’s rush in his direction. She stopped a foot away to take a cautious sniff before throwing her arms around him. “It’s Christmas.”
He caught her in his arms and threw her skyward, joy kicking hard through him as laughter spilled from her lips. “How did that happen? I could have sworn it was summer. What’s Santa doing coming in the middle of summer?”
Sasha was there, catching hold of his other side and squeezing tightly. “Merry Christmas, Daddy.”
He reached down and lifted her as well, their squeals of delight making the warmth of the room all but disappear because this warmed him even more, inside and out. “Merry Christmas, pumpkin. Are there really presents under the tree?”
Two heads nodded. They squirmed to be set free, and he put them down, pausing to remove his boots as he gazed into the living room. “That’s a fine-looking tree,” he said to Tamara who sat all bundled up under a blanket on the couch. A cup in her hand and laughter in her eyes.
“It’s amazing,” she replied. “One minute it wasn’t there, then poof. The next it was.”
Emma paused at Tamara’s knee for two seconds before climbing into her lap as if she belonged there. But it wasn’t until she cupped a hand to Tamara’s ear that Caleb’s throat threatened to close off for good.
Tamara’s gaze met his as Emma whispered something, a sweet smile directed at him before she turned her attention to his daughter and nodded vigorously. “I’m sure Santa found the things you made. You should check the packages and see if any of them have your daddy’s name on them.”
Caleb stood there for one more moment before his feet carried him down the hall, vanishing into his room without a word.
He leaned his hands on the door and fought for control. This was what it was supposed to be when you had a family. This was what Christmas morning should be like—and the sheer wrongness of the past threatened to choke him.
He took a few deep breaths, attempting to push away the old. Wendy wasn’t part of the girls’ lives anymore. She hadn’t been for a couple of years, and she couldn’t come in and hurt them.
Tamara had shown him he had that right.
He changed from his work clothes, a real mixture of pleasure and pain swirling in his gut. This was going to be the best Christmas ever for the girls, but he still…
Why did he feel as if there were an aching, empty hole inside?
The modestly noisy house grew louder as the morning progressed and as the rest of the family arrived, the back door opening again and again as his brothers joined them.
Dustin wore a Santa hat, the paper bag in his hand that held presents taken eagerly by Emma to be placed under the tree. Sasha hauled him off to help set the table for the upcoming meal, and secrets in the form of low whispers bounced back and forth between the two of them as they worked, the lanky young man and his energetic niece.
Walker hung his cowboy hat on one of the hooks by the door before coming forward with small, twisted bits of tin foil he placed at each person’s spot at the table.
Luke marched in right when they were getting ready to sit down to dinner, his arms full of packages. Penny wasn’t with him.
Tamara eyed him. “Where’s your fiancée?”
Luke blinked, looking up from where he’d been hugging the girls. “Penny? Oh, she said to pass on her apologies, but she couldn’t make it. She’ll try to come tonight, but there was something her dad needed her to do, so she couldn’t leave until later.”
He shrugged.
Caleb wondered if Luke really didn’t mind, or if his brother was putting on a show and hiding his disappointment.
Tamara pushed past Caleb, muttering under her breath. “I hate that woman. Twit. Mean, nasty twit.”
Caleb’s lips quivered, but he managed to keep from outright laughing. “That’s not a very Christmassy-like sentiment,” he murmured back.
“She doesn’t engender very many charitable thoughts on my part, but I kind of figured she’d do this.” She turned, brushing accidentally against him, giving his arm a squeeze before stabbing a number on her phone. He waited with great curiosity until she barked an order at someone. “I win. Get your ass up here.”
He raised a brow, but Tamara put her phone away and patted her pocket with a smug smile. “I do so like being right.”
Caleb wondered if he should give the room a warning of some kind, but then it wasn’t him she was pulling a fast one on, and he wasn’t about to rescue his brother.
When Kelli slipped in the door five minutes later, offering Tamara the evil eye, Caleb couldn’t help it. He outright grinned, especially when Luke paused in the middle of what he was doing. His eyes went wide before his lazy, half-hooded look returned.
It seemed the friendly feud between the two of them continued.
“Okay, everybody to the table,” Tamara ordered, and the next few minutes were filled with the noise of moving chairs and overfilled platters being laid on the table.
An amazing spread of food greeted them. Caleb picked up the first serving spoon, and that’s when he noticed half the stack of plates waited beside Tamara. She worked at his side, scooping up half of everything before the plates were handed around the circle, and slowly everyone was served.
As traditional, Ashton had joined them, and he sat there with a huge grin on his face that only got wider as the meal progressed.
They ate until Caleb couldn’t think of eating another mouthful. At which point, Sasha proudly brought out a pie she had made, and they all had to eat a little more.
Luke made the coffee, and as they finished the last of the goodies, Ashton delivered his present, which was to open his fiddle case and play a few songs for them.
The responding applause that followed was the cue for Dustin to turn into a giant elf and start passing out presents from under the tree. The volume in the room rose, and wrapping paper flew, and through it all Caleb forced himself to keep from staring at Tamara between discovering what had caused the squeals of excitement from his children.
They ended with the little twist of metallic foil that Walker put in front of each plate.
Caleb lifted the small black device hidden inside. “Something for the computer?”
Sasha rolled her eyes. “Daddy. It’s a USB. It means Uncle Walker gave us pictures or something. You plug it into your computer, and you can download them.”
Caleb nodded at the serious expressions on Emma’s and Sasha’s faces. “Good thing I’ve got you guys to help me with that.” He turned to his brother. “Rodeo pictures?”
Walker was occupied straightening his utensils. “Something like that.”
Caleb wrapped his fingers around it and nodded. “Thank you.”
Emma slipped to Walker’s side and gave him a big hug, and he held her tight for a moment, eyes closed, contentment on his face.
Games were brought out, more music played. The afternoon drifted into evening. Everyone who wanted to eat again loaded a plate with leftovers and heated it in the microwave, Dustin going back for thirds.
They took turns heading out in pairs to finish chores, returning to the warmth of the house as if they couldn’t bear to let the holiday be over.
Twenty minutes past their bedtime, two little girls were falling asleep in the corner of the couch, but their eyes were bright with happiness and Caleb wasn’t willing to send them from the room yet. So they sat, curled up together, staring at the Christmas lights and the family who were still visiting.
Luke, Kelli and Ashton were talking up a storm, the older man settled on the ledge before the fire as Kelli sat on the floor, hands waving animatedly. Dustin fooled around cautiously on Ashton’s fiddle while Walker teased him.
Caleb drifted around to where Tamara sat playing with the puzzle Dustin had given her, settling on the arm of her chair.
“Thanks.” He wanted to say so much more. Like thanks for poking his stupid ass and making him a better father. Thanks for taking care of his family and making sure they were all as happy as possible.
He couldn’t get the words out.
She put the puzzle aside, tilting her head as she gazed up. “It’s been a good day.”
“Tomorrow, your family.”
“And yours,” she pointed out.
They and the girls were headed north to Rocky Mountain House for the annual Boxing Day Coleman clan gathering, which included his sister’s new family and Tamara’s family.
Shockingly, he was looking forward to it, which wasn’t like him. The idea of a crowd, with so many strangers, usually would put his back up and make his protective instincts go into overdrive. Take his little girls into that situation? Never…before now.
Because while it would be loud and noisy and full of people, he was fairly certain they would care and tease and love his girls and make them feel welcome.
This trusting business was addictive in a way. It seemed every time he’d opened up a little he’d been rewarded—
He wondered if he should plan on ducking soon, because nothing went this well, for this long, without coming back and kicking him in the teeth.
But that hollow, empty place inside him had filled up over the past hours, and he knew the reason why.
More specifically, he knew the reason who, and she was watching him closely. Her face smooth and content, but a question in her eyes.
He broke eye contact, hoping his feelings weren’t written too clearly on his face. He nodded politely, then rose and joined Walker and Dustin who were trying to convince Ashton to play some more fiddle.
Maybe…
Maybe Tamara was right about something else. Maybe it was time for him to do something that would make him happy. He didn’t need to know what came a year down the road.
Tomorrow would be a good enough start.