Authors: Janet Dailey
How could she have made such a mess of things?
“Don’t look so sad, honey.” Francine patted her shoulder. “Christmas is just another day. You’ll get through it fine. So will your babies. You’ll see.”
“Thanks, Francine. I wish I could believe that.” Kylie used the back of her hand to wipe away the salty tear that had trickled down her cheek.
“I have a daughter who’d be about your age,” Francine said. “Maybe a little younger. But I like to think she’d be pretty like you. She might even have kids of her own by now.”
Kylie sensed a sad story behind Francine’s words. “What’s your daughter’s name?” she asked.
“In my memory I call her Annie,” Francine said. “But I wasn’t allowed to name her for real. By the time she was born, I’d already signed the adoption papers. Only got to hold her once. But she had big, blue eyes, a lot like yours—and a full head of the reddest hair you ever saw.”
“And you don’t know where she is or who her parents are?”
Francine shook her head. “The parents made sure it was a closed adoption. They were afraid I might try to get her back. And I might’ve, too. But it wouldn’t have been a good idea. I was a little crazy back in those days.” She laughed, tossing her bleached blond hair. “Guess I pretty much still am.”
“I’m sorry.” Kylie couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“Don’t be, sweetie. I like to tell myself that having that little girl was the best thing I ever did, and that somewhere she’s happy.”
Kylie’s misted eyes blurred her vision. She ought to count her blessings, she told herself. This was a bad time, but at least when she got home, her children would be waiting. She would hug them till her arms ached.
“Mrs. Wayne?” The deputy’s nasal voice startled her. She turned around to see him unlocking the cell door. “Your bond’s been paid. You’re free to go.”
Her first reaction was bewilderment. She hadn’t told a soul she was here, and she hadn’t shared any phone numbers. But as she stepped through the door and glimpsed the tall, lean figure waiting in the hallway, she knew that, somehow, Shane had found her.
Willing herself not to run to him, she turned back toward the bars of the cell. “Will you be all right, Francine?” she asked. “Is there anything I can do? Anybody I can call?”
“Bless you, sugar, I’ll be just fine. Go home to your babies, and have a merry Christmas!”
The young woman in the hoodie hadn’t stirred. Knowing there was nothing to be done for her, Kylie walked out into the hall.
Shane was waiting for her, dressed in his sheepskin coat and holding her purse. His face wore a knowing smile. “Let’s go home, little jailbird,” he said. “You’ve had quite an evening.”
“No comment.” Kylie took her purse and fell into step beside him. “Just get me out of here.”
They walked outside. The night was black and cold, the stars like pinpoints of ice. He took her arm to steady her going down the front steps.
“I called your family,” Shane said. “They were relieved to hear you were safe. You gave them quite a scare.”
“Did you tell them what happened?”
“I told them you had car trouble and your phone wasn’t working. Unless you want to share the truth, this escapade will be our little secret.”
“Thanks.” Kylie began to breathe again.
“Your car’s in impound,” he said, unlocking the passenger door of his pickup. “You won’t be able to get it out till Monday. And, of course, there’ll be a court date. Knowing the judge, I’m guessing they’ll slap you with a fine and probation, maybe some community service.”
“That sounds like a bit much, since I barely scratched that poor tree.”
“But a scratch is proof of intent. And they’re keeping my saw as evidence. Branding Iron justice is like tough love. Believe me, I know.” He offered his arm to help her climb inside. Kylie’s knees felt wobbly. She slumped against the back of the seat. By the time Shane climbed in on the other side, she was fighting tears and losing the battle.
“Oh, blast it, Shane! I’ve made such a mess of things! All I wanted was to give my children a good Christmas with a tree and presents. Now they’ve got no presents, no tree, and almost no mother. Instead of celebrating Christmas Eve, they had to spend it worrying about me—not to mention all the trouble I put you through tonight. How much was my bond? I’ll pay you back. I can write you a check.”
“Come here, Kylie.” Leaning over the truck’s console, he reached out and pulled her close. “I don’t give a damn about the bond,” he muttered. “I don’t give a damn about the tree or the jail or the time it took to track you down. All I care about right now is that you’re safe and you’re here. And if you’re wondering why, it’s because I care about
you.
”
His kiss caught her off guard. Deep and hot and passionate, it was everything a kiss should be. Her pulse skyrocketed. A bonfire flamed inside her as her mouth molded to his heat, lips softening, opening. His breath roughened as he pulled her tighter. His hands found their way under her coat; his touch was waking tremors of long-denied need. She moaned, pressing against him, hungry for more.
A belly jab from the gearshift knob broke the spell. He released her with a sigh. “To be continued—if that’s really what you want. For now, let’s get you home.”
Starting the engine, he swung the truck out of the parking lot. Still reeling from his kiss, Kylie fastened her seat belt and sank back into the leather upholstery. She had no words for what had just happened. Shane was in the driver’s seat now—both literally and figuratively.
He drove in silence. Not until after they’d left the town behind did he clear his throat and speak. “This isn’t easy to say, Kylie. I’m a proud man, and I don’t believe in telling pretty lies to a woman just to get what I want. I care about you and your children, maybe more than I should.”
“My children feel the same about you,” Kylie said. “You’ve been wonderful with them. I appreciate that.”
“Let me finish. This isn’t about your children. This is about you. You know I’ve been planning to sell out and leave.”
“Yes, of course I do.”
“To tell the truth, I’ve been having second thoughts. Muriel and Henry have both tried to convince me to stay, at least long enough to figure out where you and I are headed.”
Kylie’s heart slammed. She’d fantasized about a relationship with Shane. But what he was offering was a chance at the real thing. Could she handle it? Was she ready? Shane was everything she could want in a man, the whole package, with kisses that burned all the way to her soul.
So, why was she suddenly terrified?
She forced herself to speak. “So, where
are
we headed, Shane?”
“That’s up to you. Give it some thought before you answer. All I ask is that, if it’s yes, you’ll let me know in time to cancel the listing on my ranch. I don’t want those folks in Michigan to make a trip for nothing.”
Part of her wanted to say “yes” right now. But that would put so much at risk—the loss, the hurt, the heartbreak. And not only for herself, but also for her children.
“So, what if I say yes and it doesn’t work out?” she asked.
“Then we cut our losses and go on with our lives. I’m aware that you’re still mourning your husband, Kylie. If you’ll give me a chance, I promise to take things slow. I just need to know whether you’re willing to try.”
They fell silent as they neared the farm and turned in through the front gate. As Shane pulled to a stop, Kylie saw Muriel waiting in the circle of the back porch light, the afghan clutched around her shoulders. Jumping out of the truck, Kylie ran to her.
“Thank heaven you’re all right!” Muriel’s frail arms went around her for a tight hug. “We were so worried.”
“Where are Amy and Hunter?” Kylie asked. “Do they know what happened?”
“I sent them to bed as soon as we heard that Shane had found you. They were both worn-out.”
“They must not have had much of a Christmas Eve. Did the package with the presents ever show up?” Kylie was aware of Shane, standing behind her.
Muriel shook her head. “I’m afraid not. But I do have a bit of good news. I found your wedding ring.”
“Oh!” In all the excitement, Kylie had almost forgotten about her missing ring. “Where on earth did you find it?”
“I keep a pair of old wool gloves in the pockets of my coat. Your ring was inside one of the fingers.”
Kylie remembered now. She’d worn the coat outside and put on the gloves to shovel snow while she spoke with Shane. When they’d ended up arguing, she’d pulled off the gloves and stuffed them back in the pockets, too upset to notice that she’d pulled off the ring as well.
“Here you are, dear.” Muriel held out the ring. “I even shined it up a little for you.”
Kylie slipped the gold band back on her finger. “Thank goodness! I was so afraid it was lost forever!”
Behind her, Shane was silent—too silent, Kylie realized. Was something wrong?
“Won’t you come in, Shane?” Muriel asked. “I can rustle you up some leftovers if you’re hungry.”
“I need to be going.” His voice was flat, almost cold. “Good night and have a merry Christmas tomorrow.”
Muriel stood looking after him as the truck roared out of the gate. “Now what was that all about?” she mused. “He acted as if he couldn’t wait to get out of here.”
Kylie glanced down at her wedding ring. Chilled by the night air, it felt cold and heavy against her skin. She twisted it around her finger, wondering as her mind circled the truth.
Why had Shane left so suddenly?
Was it because of her?
Was it because, in an instant’s thoughtless act, she’d already given him the answer he was waiting to hear?
I know you’re still mourning your husband, Kylie . . .
Shane’s words came back to her as she stood on the back porch, the cold wind chilling her face. Tonight Shane had swallowed his pride and laid it all on the line, offering to put off his long-held dream for the chance to build a life with her and her children.
What had it taken for him to make that offer—how much soul-searching, how much sacrifice? He hadn’t told her he loved her, but surely there’d been love behind every word he’d spoken.
She should have accepted his offer right then. Instead she’d hesitated. Then minutes later, like the fool she was, she’d exclaimed over her recovered ring and put it right back on her finger.
No wonder Shane had left so abruptly. As far as he was concerned, he had his answer, and he was finished with her. She would never again feel his arms around her, never again know his kisses. And she would never know the life they might’ve had together.
“You’re shivering,” Muriel said. “Let’s go inside. You must be half frozen. What happened to your car?”
“It just . . . wouldn’t start. I should never have driven it into town.” At least the second part was true. She hated lying to Muriel. Maybe later she’d tell her the truth. But right now all she wanted was to forget tonight had ever happened.
“Are you hungry? I can warm you up some dinner.”
Kylie shook her head. “Thanks, but I’m too tired to eat. I just want to relax and get warm. Thanks for getting my children through Christmas Eve.”
Muriel pulled her close in a hug. “Don’t worry, dear. I know things don’t look so good now. But everything will come right in the end. You’ll see.”
Kylie gazed past the old woman’s shoulder at the forlorn silver tree and the bare floor beneath it. Muriel’s words were meant to cheer her. But she’d stopped believing in Santa a long time ago.
Chapter Twelve
S
hane tapped the brake, easing the truck to a stop on the snowy road. A wide-eyed doe and her gangly half-grown fawn stood frozen in his headlights, too startled to move. He watched them a few seconds before his light rap on the horn sent them bounding into a roadside thicket. Shifting down, he drove on toward home. He could only hope the deer were finding enough to eat on this cold Christmas Eve.
For him, spending the holiday alone would be nothing new. This year he’d hoped to have more exciting plans. But Kylie had made her message clear when she’d slipped that ring back on her finger. She still thought of herself as a married woman, and her war hero husband was still the man in her life.
Getting over her would take time. Her beauty, courage, and womanly spunk had crept into his heart and now refused to leave. The mental picture of her sneaking into the cemetery with a saw to cut down a Christmas tree made his mouth twitch in a wistful smile.
It was a good thing he hadn’t told her he loved her. If he had, the blow to his masculine pride would have been too much to stand. At least he’d been able to make a dignified exit.
But it wasn’t just Kylie who’d invaded his heart. Her children had found a place there, too. He remembered Hunter hiding from the bikers, then calling him “Dad” as they left the café. And he remembered Amy, her innocent little smile as she stole out of the shed after hiding the bike’s front axle.
“It’s not fair!”
Amy’s cry of complaint echoed in his memory. And it
wasn’t
fair. Those two great kids had been through a rough time, losing their father, losing their house, and being uprooted from their schools and friends to this cold, lonely place that was nothing like home.
They deserved far better than the Christmas they were getting. But for all their mother’s desperate efforts, they would wake up tomorrow to an ugly tinfoil tree with no presents underneath. That, along with the memory of happier Christmases with their father, would make for a sad, dreary day.
Kylie had given it her all, but nothing had worked out as she’d hoped. Now, with Christmas morning hours away, she’d run out of options.
But had he?
As Shane turned in the gate to his ranch, an idea struck him—an idea crazy enough to make him wonder if he was losing his mind.
Why not?
he asked himself. Maybe he wasn’t the man for Kylie. But he cared deeply about her and about her children. Before he started packing to leave, he would give them a bang-up Christmas, one they would never forget.
Most of what he needed he already had. And what he didn’t have he could borrow from Abner Jenkins, his neighbor to the north.