The Cowboy's Holiday Blessing (9 page)

Madeline thought about telling him no. But for Jackson, his charm seemed to come naturally. He could wink at his mom, smile and they all went along with his plans. At that moment she had no choice but to go with him. She either went or she fell apart in front of his family.

Somehow he knew that she needed a minute to gather herself. Later she would thank him for that little bit of intuition. Later she might even wonder how he knew her so well.

Hand in hand they walked out the front door, down the steps and across the lawn. Neither of them spoke, which was good. What would she say when they did speak? Sorry for being so ridiculous?

At a small gazebo at the edge of the lawn they finally stopped. Jackson smiled down at her, a gentle smile. No wink. No flirty grin. “I wanted to make sure you're okay. I thought a little fresh air might help.”

She nodded, unsure. “I'm fine, really I am.”

He stood in front of her, and she felt as if he saw everything about her. Including the things she didn't want him to see. He touched her cheek. “You're sure? Because I recognize that ‘need to escape this family' look.”

“I'm sure.” She laughed a little because she had been thinking exactly that.

Was that part of Jackson's charm? He could read
people and it made a woman think that he really cared, really understood? Of course that was it, and for that reason alone she should back away.

He shouldn't be the man she wanted to kiss. She moved closer and his brows arched. His hand moved from hers. He slid it around her back and held her close. But he didn't kiss her.

Okay, fine, she would make the first move. She could do this, even if she fainted in the process. She didn't plan on living her life in a box, afraid to feel. Braver than she'd ever been in her life, she stood on her tiptoes and rested a hand on his shoulder. Jackson whispered her name as he bent and drew her close. Telling herself she wouldn't regret it, she touched her lips to his, closing her eyes to the landslide of feelings that slammed her heart.

“Madeline.” He pulled back first.

“I'm sorry.” She didn't know what else to say. “I can't believe I did that.”

“You don't have to apologize.” He winked—a little of the old Jackson obviously still existed.

She had kissed Jackson Cooper and he had pulled away. Now she had to go back in the house with him, sit at the table with him, and pretend it didn't hurt to be rejected, to be the woman that Jackson Cooper could resist.

She blamed herself. She'd taken a single moment and turned it into something it hadn't been, ever. He had done a few sweet things for her and she'd obviously taken it wrong. Last night she'd thought he would kiss her and he hadn't. She should have learned then that he wasn't interested.

As she hurried up the steps he called her name. She didn't turn back. She wouldn't. She'd been humiliated
enough. For years she'd been praying that God would help her move past her fear. This probably hadn't been His plan.

The front door of the house opened. Heather Cooper, blonde, petite, pretty, smiled. “Madeline, Mom told me you were here today. She said to find you and Jackson.”

Heather peeked around her. “There he is.” And then her attention refocused on Madeline, and Madeline wanted to melt into the concrete of the front porch. “Are you okay? What did he do?”

Nervousness turned to hysteria. Madeline giggled and then laughed. She turned to watch Jackson walk up the steps, still the gentleman, shrugging and saying nothing.

“Nothing happened.” Madeline wouldn't let him take the fall for her mistake. “Nothing at all.”

She hurried inside the house and left Jackson with his sister. Nothing at all had happened. Nothing would ever happen. Jackson had given her the space she needed to come to her senses.

He had rejected her. That knowledge settled in her heart where it felt heavy and cold. And she had to go in to lunch with him, sit across the table from him and avoid looking his way.

Which she could do because she'd always avoided him. She needed to do that for a little longer, and then she would put distance between them. Jade could stay with his family. Madeline could go back to her life. Thanks to Jackson, she could walk away without regret.

At the moment, thanking him was the last thing she wanted to do.

A
fter a pretty miserable lunch, Jackson loaded Madeline and Jade back into his truck and drove them to the church where they'd left Madeline's car a few hours earlier. A five-minute ride felt like five hours with neither of the women in his truck speaking. The younger one seemed to be talked out—finally.

The older one looked hurt and wounded. Exactly what he hadn't wanted to happen. He'd been doing his best to protect her and she'd messed that up royally.

Jackson pulled his truck into the church parking lot, stopping next to Madeline's sedan. Jade dozed in the seat next to him. Madeline had managed to sit near the door this time. He had thought long and hard about that kiss, about the hurt look on her face when she ran away.

He couldn't let her go home thinking this was about her. The woman who hid behind big sweaters and glasses needed to understand that he hadn't rejected her because of her.

But when would he tell her, and what would he say? Nothing for now, not in front of Jade. Not in the church parking lot when he would be driving home and she'd go back to her house.

“Jade, climb on in Madeline's car. I'll follow you back to your house.” He nudged the sleeping teenager.

“We'll be fine.” Madeline opened the truck door. “I'll bring Jade to your house in the morning before I go to work.”

“I know I don't have to follow you, but I'm going to. We need to talk.”

Madeline moved for Jade to get out of the truck. “We don't need to talk. Really, I don't want to talk. I think we've said it all.”

“We actually haven't said a word and I want to explain.”

“No, thank you.” She got out and closed the door.

Jackson watched as she rummaged through her purse for her keys. She had reverted to glasses today and a big brown sweater with a denim skirt. He shook his head as she fumbled, dropped her purse and then opened the car door and tossed it in the back seat. Angry gestures. Mad at him or mad at herself?

After she drove away Jackson sat there in the parking lot, thinking about a lot of stuff, most of which didn't make sense. He didn't need this. His life was fine. He had his ranch. He had his family and friends.

This church that had always been in his life, he even had that, when he wanted.

When he wanted? On his schedule, his time?

Okay, he got that God might not like that idea. So this was all some “jerk you up by the seat of your pants” faith plan? He remembered the chorus of an old hymn his grandmother loved.

No turning back, no turning back.

He could argue all day that he kind of liked the old Jackson, the old life, but God was sending a pretty clear
message. No turning back. It set him back on his heels a little, and he took a long time getting back on the road.

Tomorrow he'd move forward. He'd go to his doctor in Grove.

He'd try, again, to get hold of Gloria Baker.

And he'd fix things with Madeline.

Tonight, though, he'd find a way to get his mind off the crazy twists and turns his life had taken. First he drove past Madeline's, making sure she and Jade got in the house safely. The porch light burned bright. She'd parked her car under the carport.

He turned his truck around in her driveway and headed back to town, in the direction of Back Street. He had work to do on the living nativity. Since the horse had thrown him and then Jade showed up, he'd kind of neglected his job of building Bethlehem.

The front porch light of Dawson Community Center cast a wide arc of light across the front lawn of what had once been his family church. There were a lot of memories tied to this little building. Most were pleasant, some weren't.

One that he had mixed feelings about had to do with Jeremy Hightree, his half brother. They'd grown up together, not knowing that they shared the same father. Today they were probably closer than ever. But the relationship was still strained. It took a lot for a guy like Jeremy to let go of pride and resentment. Jackson figured Jeremy had done better than he would have.

After parking he grabbed tools out of the back of his truck and walked across the lawn to the makeshift buildings. An inn, shops, and on the other side of the lawn, the manger scene. He needed to work on the inn. He strapped a tool belt around his waist and hooked the hammer into the loop.

“What are you doing here tonight?”

Jackson turned, smiled at Jeremy and pulled nails out of his mouth so he could talk. “Thought I'd get some work done. I've kind of fallen behind on the job.”

“From what I heard, you fell off a horse. I didn't expect you for a few more days.”

“We don't really have a few days, now do we?”

Jeremy shrugged and walked a little closer. “No, I guess we don't. Saw you at church today. A little advice?”

“I'd rather you not give me advice, if you don't mind. It wasn't that long ago that you were running hard and fast from anything that had to do with Dawson.” Jackson grinned and avoided looking at Jeremy. “As a matter of fact, I remember a dozer aimed at this building.”

“Right, I guess you've got a point.”

“I guess I do.” He placed a nail and lifted the board that needed to be attached. “What would you do without me, anyway?”

“Oh, we'd manage.” Jeremy stepped closer and Jackson saw that his brother wasn't smiling. “I'm just going to go ahead and say this.”

“Really?”

Jeremy nodded and for a second Jackson wondered if he was about to get punched. Jeremy smiled but his eyes were steel-hard in the evening light.

“Jackson, if that kid is yours, you'd better not leave her out in the cold.”

When an old dog got riled, he bristled. Jackson felt a lot like an old dog but Jeremy looked a little ahead of him, more prepared for a fight. He put the hammer down and took a step away from Jeremy. He got it. He knew why Jeremy would say something like that to
him. Jeremy had spent most of his life feeling like baggage that got left on the side of the road.

“I think you know me better than that.” Jackson picked the hammer up again. He tapped the nail into place, and reached for another. “And you don't really know a thing about this situation.”

“I know that everyone in town is talking about a kid showing up on your doorstep claiming to be yours and looking a lot like you.”

“People assume a lot, don't they?”

“Maybe they do, but sometimes the facts point to the obvious answer.”

Jackson pushed a tarp out of the way and pulled a piece of plywood across the opening. “I'm really not going to have this discussion with you.”

Jeremy didn't budge. He didn't back down. “I guess it isn't any of my business. And I guess I'm making it my business because she's a kid and I know what it feels like to be that kid, wanting to be a part of a family.”

Jackson exhaled a whole lot of frustration. He finally looked at Jeremy, shaking his head and wishing he'd gone on home. Instead he'd come here thinking he could work alone, get his thoughts together and figure out what to do.

That's what he got for thinking.

“She isn't mine.”

Jeremy stared for a long minute and then looked up at the sky. When he zeroed in on Jackson, it felt pretty uncomfortable. Jackson's attention focused on a closed fist and then on the hard stare.

“Really?”

Jackson picked up another board and nailed it to the frame of what would soon be the inn that turned Mary
and Joseph away. For all eternity it would be the inn that turned away a baby, the son of God, the savior.

But the story would have changed if Jesus hadn't been born in that manger, the humblest of circumstances. He might not go to church every Sunday but Jackson got that God always had a plan. Things came together for a reason.

A young girl had landed on his doorstep. For a reason?

“Jeremy, she isn't mine. I know that she looks a lot like a Cooper and my name is on the birth certificate. But I'm about one hundred percent certain she isn't mine.”

“‘About'?”

“I'm done with this conversation. I'm either going to finish the inn or knock you into the middle of next week. Which do you prefer, brother?”

Jeremy raised his hands and backed away. “You go right ahead and finish the inn.”

“Thank you, I will.” Jackson pounded another nail with Jeremy watching.

Of course he wouldn't be quiet for long. Finally he cleared his throat and stepped forward again.

“She's a cute kid and she seems pretty high on you.” Jeremy cleared his throat again. “As a matter of fact, she isn't the only one who seems to really like you these days. Two women, is that a record?”

“It isn't a record and you're a piece of…”

Jeremy slapped him on the back, laughing loud. “Jackson, I'm the best thing that ever happened to you. I'm your brother.”

“I don't know how you think that's a good thing.”

Jeremy backed toward the door. “Well, I haven't knocked you on your can yet. And I put up with you
coming over here in the evening, making noise and bellowing like an angry bull.”

“I put up with you on Sundays and holidays.” More than that, but he wasn't in the mood to be congenial.

“I'm going to give you a sweet little niece or nephew in about eight months.”

Jackson froze, holding the board, pretty amazed. “Seriously, you and Beth?”

“We're having a baby.”

“Congratulations.” Jackson meant it, but today it didn't come out as easily as it once would have. Today he could only think about the little girl who wasn't his and the woman who had kissed him this afternoon, unsettling him, and changing his mind about a lot of things.

“Thanks. It's going to be a big change for us.” Jeremy grinned and snorted a laugh. “At least we get to work up to it. No ‘surprise, it's a teenager' for us.”

“You're a laugh a minute.”

“I try. Hey, it's getting late and Beth will wonder where I am. Why don't you head on home? We'll get some more work done here on Wednesday.”

“Yeah, I think that's a good idea.” He slipped the hammer into the tool belt and stretched, groaning when the muscles between his shoulders protested. “I think it's time to go home and put my feet up.”

“Let me know if I can do anything to help.” Jeremy walked out the door ahead of him.

“Yeah, I'll do that.”

A few minutes later Jackson drove down the road, slowing as he got close to Madeline's driveway. Every light in the house was on. A week ago he would have gone on by, wondering about her, maybe smiling.

Tonight he pulled in, parking behind her car.

It took her a few minutes to answer the door. He knocked a little louder, rethinking the decision to stop by. The puppy barked and Jade shouted, which meant he couldn't leave now. He had to stand there, not quite sure of himself. He pushed his hat back and waited.

Who was he kidding? His mom said he'd been sure of himself since he turned three and managed to kiss Annie Butler on the cheek in the church nursery. He grinned, not that he remembered, but he liked that story. Even if Annie hadn't ever dated him.

Commotion erupted inside the house. He peeked between the curtains and saw Jade race through the hall, the dog following her. Madeline yelled that she would get it and for Jade to get in the shower.

Wow, domestic. Family. Not at all what he had been thinking about. A book on the table and a coffee cup. Pictures on the walls. The smell of wood smoke filled the air. A cat hopped up on the porch and sat looking at him, licking its paw and blinking the way cats did.

The door opened a crack. Madeline peeked, sighed and opened the door the rest of the way.

“Why are you here?”

He shrugged. “Guess I felt like we have unfinished business.”

“Really? I think it's all been said. Jackson, can't you let a woman crawl off and hide without you chasing her down and making her remember that she made a fool of herself?”

He moved a little into the door. “You didn't make a fool of yourself, so that isn't why I'm here. And I'm afraid I do like to be the one who chases the woman.”

“So this is because…” Her cheeks turned pink. “Because
I
kissed
you
.”

“And hurt my male ego?” He smiled and then
laughed. “It isn't that at all. Why don't you invite me in for a cup of tea? It's cold out here.”

And he wasn't a tea person. But he thought she probably was. He could hear water running and knew Jade would be out of the shower soon.

“Okay, tea.” Madeline led the way through a house he'd been in hundreds of times in his life. His great-grandparents had lived here. His grandmother had grown up here.

Jackson took a seat at her tiny dining room table. A poinsettia graced the center. She'd put her Christmas tree in the corner of her little dining room. Jackson watched as she moved around the kitchen heating water, finding tea bags and placing cups on the counter.

After a minute he stood, because he couldn't sit and watch her. He had to stand near her, watch her expressions, her serious brown eyes. He knew her story, but he wanted to know everything about her. He wanted her to share her dreams with him. He wanted to hear her laugh.

He'd dated a lot of women who talked nonstop, whose constant stories about themselves grated on his nerves. This woman didn't talk enough.

“The other day when I was looking for information on Gloria Baker,” he said, leaning against the counter. Madeline kept her back to him. She poured steaming water in the two cups. “I searched your name.”

She nodded but still didn't turn to look at him. “Okay.”

“I know what happened when you were a little girl.”

She poured hot water in the cups and didn't look up. It took everything for him to stay in that spot, watching her, not moving toward her, not reaching for her hands
that trembled, not putting an arm around her when she shivered.