A Tiny House Christmas (Hockey Sweethearts #8)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

DECEMBER 23

H e was Joe McCall to everyone who knew him. Except to Karlene.

His best friend’s kid sister was the only one who still called him Joey—and the only one allowed to without facing dire consequences.

If Karlene ever called him Joe, he knew she was mad—as mad as the time she’d shown up at seventeen, as angry as the thunderstorm gathering around the ranch, wanting to ride off her fight with her then-boyfriend-now-fiancé Thomas. Joey had refused to let her ride his stallion out into the storm, and he’d been called Joe that day.

The next month she’d bought her own horse. Which, naturally, he’d allowed her to board, free of charge, on his ranch ever since.

There were a few other rare times she’d called him Joe. For instance, the occasions he’d sided with her older brother Blake and said no to her tagging along on their adventures. He’d like to think he’d made up for that with a few secrets and favors over the years. For example, Blake didn’t know about the old cabin he and Karlene had found a few miles ride from his ranch, a place they’d camp out in a few times a season.

Karlene called him Joey at least ninety-nine percent of the time, which he figured was a decent ratio for a cowboy and his best friend’s kid sister.

He shook his head, taking in the line of six bridesmaids standing to his right. Karlene had a way about her, that was for sure. He still hadn’t figured out how she’d convinced him to be one of her bridesmaids. Or a dude of honor, or whatever she called it to make him feel better about it all.

Who could say no to her when her eyes lit up whenever she stepped onto his ranch, and that bounce fell into her booted step? You’d have to be some kind of monster to shoo her away.

And so here he was in spiffy dark-washed jeans, a tuxedo jacket and a fresh new cowboy hat that matched the men to his left, waiting for Karlene to come down the aisle. It was two days before Christmas and the Sweetheart Creek church was decorated in red and green for the seasonal wedding and all of the pews were packed. A wave of pride filled him, dampening his eyes as Karlene appeared in the church doorway in her white gown. Six years his junior, the tagalong kid had grown up on him. Today she was a bride, about to get married.

Married .

Little Karlene Spragg.

A wife. It was going to change everything.

He supposed it was about time, though. She was pushing thirty-years-old and had been dating Thomas McNaughton since high school. And yet, somehow, the fact that she was all grown up hadn’t registered with Joey. Not even when he’d been drawn into the wedding party, all the plans thankfully taken care of by Thomas’s mother, leaving him out of decisions regarding floral arrangements, color schemes and nail polish.

Maybe today didn’t feel real because Kar hadn’t ever truly had her heart broken, or been wrung out on the adult dating scene like he had. And now she was going to be a wife to a man outside his social circle.

Her husband-to-be’s family had one of the biggest ranches in Hill Country, and next week Karlene would no doubt move her horse—which was currently rigged up to the carriage out front, ready to take her and Thomas from the church to the wedding reception—to her own ranch.

Hers and Thomas’.

She’d have kids. Quit her job as a physical therapist for the NHL hockey team in San Antonio and become so busy he’d rarely see her. She’d no longer need him after today, and a stab of loneliness ached in his gut.

He rolled onto the balls of his feet, fighting the sense of loss. He met Karlene’s eyes across the church and the air left his lungs.

Somewhere along the line, her familiar legginess had made her a knockout without him noticing. She was simply stunning, the dress hugging her curves.

He bounced in place again. Something felt right about waiting for her to walk down the aisle toward him.

He frowned at the fleeting thought, then became distracted by how Karlene was frozen in the church doorway like his prize bull had gotten out again and she was afraid of becoming a target.

Karlene’s round eyes locked on Joey’s and the hitch in her shoulders dropped. His gut warmed and he caught himself taking a half step forward before catching himself. The heat spread as memories of this woman, his best friend, flooded through him. Laughter. Horseback rides and camp-outs at their secret cabin. The two of them cooking breakfast in his kitchen after an endless night of calving cows, elbow to elbow.

He reminded himself that she wasn’t here for him. And this wasn’t the day or time to swoop in and look out for her. That was over now. She had other people to do that.

Karlene Spragg and her long legs were all grown up.

But his gut told him she wasn’t okay.

She needed something. A friend. Him.

She was wavering in the doorway, seemingly unable to move down the aisle.

Was she waiting for something from him ?

He almost stepped forward again.

What was she asking him?

He waited, trying to read her mind, predict her needs.

Did she feel…?

His breath left him.

Did he…?

He blinked, wondering when his feelings had shifted for this woman who fit into his life like she’d been made for it.

His Karlene.

She still wasn’t moving down the aisle, questions lingering in her eyes.

Should she?

Did he feel…?

Could they…?

He gave a slight nod, letting her know that he was here. He was always here.

And that somehow he’d fallen in love with her.

Now that it was too late.

Karlene had chosen her wedding song a long time ago, back when she’d been full of fantasies and crushing on a man six years her senior.

This song was her one thumbprint on today.

She wavered at the church’s threshold, trying to catch her breath so she could savor this awaited moment, feel the excitement, will the music to carry her down the aisle.

Her best friend Joey was in the large wedding party lineup and as she maintained eye contact with him, the tension eased.

Steady, steady Joey. It would all be okay if he was here, at her side.

In a few short moments she was going to be a rancher’s wife. She was going to live in the country with horses, just like he did.

It had barely taken any thought or planning to find herself here today—in a church packed to the rafters with expectant friends and family members. And at the front, waited Thomas in a black cowboy hat, boots, and a tuxedo with Western flares to suit his rancher style.

Joey was still looking at her and she smoothed a trembling hand over the dress her future mother-in-law had chosen. Joey was worried. She needed to smile. To unfreeze herself and walk down the aisle and seize her future. Make her scrapbook, which was tattered and worn, into a photo album instead of a wish book.

In minutes, she’d have a handsome cowboy husband.

A ranch filled with horses.

Her place to belong where life was paced by the seasons and the animals around her.

Just like she’d always dreamed.

She smiled, lifted her left foot, still hovering on the threshold.

Her supporting leg wobbled, and Joey leaned forward as though about to step out of the bridesmaids’ line.

She tried to put her left foot down, but her body refused to move forward. She raised a finger as if to say to those watching, “One moment.” Sweat gathered under the tightness of her dress.

She could feel the guests’ eyes on her, the pews packed shoulder to shoulder, smiles turning amused as she faltered.

Her eyes stayed locked on Joey’s and that foreign look he was giving her.

She knew he understood her.

But this look in his gaze. It was new.

It was as though he saw her today.

Her as an adult woman, and not a tagalong kid.

She blinked long and hard. She’d gotten over her crush years ago—she’d forced herself to when Thomas had begun questioning her about the amount of time she spent on Joey’s ranch.

We’re just friends.

He sees me as a tagalong. Blake’s kid sister.

Nothing more.

But the way Joey was taking her in with those expressive, sweet eyes of his was unnerving. There was a new warmth and depth. And it was exactly what she’d always wanted to see reflected back at her.

She tried to look away. She needed to move down the aisle. Say I do.

But then Joey gave her a tiny nod, so small nobody else would notice the way he was giving her permission.

Her breathing eased and her foot landed on the floor.

Permission to be herself. To follow her heart.

To run .

Before she could process her own thoughts, Karlene had spun around and was sprinting outside and down the church’s steps. Her fingers shaky, she muttered “hurry, hurry” as she unhitched her horse, Becky, from the carriage out front.

She freed the mare, gathering the long reins meant to reach the carriage driver as she pulled the horse closer to the carriage. One high heel planted on its step and, with the sound of her gown tearing underfoot, she threw herself onto Becky’s waiting back.

“Cha!” she hollered, her heart hammering as she squeezed her knees, sending the startled mare forward as members of the wedding party flooded the parking area.

She was pretty sure she heard her mother scream “Karlene Abigail Spragg, you get back here right this instant or I’ll tan your hide!” before the sounds of her mare’s hooves at full gallop drowned out everything but the sound of Karlene’s beating heart.

Inflatable Christmas decorations waved as Karlene and the horse veered across a snowless Texas lawn, short-cutting through a backyard. Karlene tucked herself low as the mare flew over a falling-down split-rail fence at the edge of town, praying she wouldn’t slide off its bare back.

The horse landed and continued across the open pasture.

Freedom.

She headed north, splashing through the creek the town of Sweetheart Creek was named after, then up its banks, the land unfolding around her; the houses shrinking behind her. She urged Becky faster, checking again to see if anyone had taken Thomas’s horse and was following her.

Not a soul.

To her right, several hundred feet away, there was a vehicle on the adjacent gravel road, dust clouding out behind it. She veered left, crossing the highway and moving northeast.

The December air was cold, whistling through her wedding gown. The skirt flopped against the horse’s flanks, billowing and crashing, at the mercy of her speed and the wind.

Karlene rode as hard as she dared, skirting fences that delineated properties, avoiding roads and anywhere a truck could catch up with her. She just needed to be away. Away from the church. Away from the expectations that had suddenly made her feel as though she was struggling under water, unable to breathe.

Thomas McNaughton was nearly every woman’s Mr. Right. He was handsome, kind, and had a giant ranch with a long, rich legacy that made her parents’ light up whenever it was mentioned. And it was mentioned an eye-rolling amount. As agricultural researchers for a local college, they wanted access to one of Texas’s largest cattle ranches, and the McNaughtons wanted a hardworking bride for Thomas. Someone who’d help him build and continue the family legacy. Thomas, in so many ways, was the legacy.

At first, it had been fun, and she’d felt important by association.

But Karlene had learned over the years that there were some heavy expectations in regards to how she’d fit into their ranch, and that her suggestions would be politely disregarded, unlike on Joey’s ranch. The McNaughtons expected her to quit her job immediately after the wedding. Give up her career as the physical therapist for the San Antonio’s National Hockey League team, the Dragons, and focus on creating the next generation of McNaughtons.

Her parents expectations were simple—grease the wheels with her family-to-be and make sure the planned research project went off without a hitch.

But as the wedding plans had unrolled, Karlene had realized that none of it was about her. It was about the ranch. And, even if she loved Tom and he loved her, she’d never be more than a supporting character.

But she’d stuck with it all because being with Tom on his ranch was all so incredibly close to the future she’d envisioned for herself as a kid on her grandparent’s own ranch.

So close.

She swiped at her tears, wishing she could go back in time and somehow fix it all. Maybe if she’d stood up for herself, or asked Tom for more say in how things were run, or even just insisted on planning her own wedding. Something. Anything.

Instead, she’d stayed quiet and now she was hurting Tom by running away, leaving him standing in the church.

She’d almost had it all, and now it was surely ruined.

All of it.

But it would have been ruined either way. If she’d stood up for herself it would have only led to fights and Tom feeling as though he had to take sides in an impossible situation.

And yet, it would have been better than doing the most mortifying and embarrassing thing in her life so far—running away from her wedding and humiliating her fiancé.

She swiped at her cheeks, almost toppling off Becky, letting her slow to a canter.

Standing in the church, feeling the warmth coming from Joey, she’d known. She’d known that no matter how hard she tried, she wouldn’t have that spark she’d dreamed of having with her future husband. Fighting harder wouldn’t have created easy laughter and routines that evolved without discussion. There’d always be steady involvement from his parents. In their eyes, there was too much at stake to entrust the ranch to the next generation, or even to an outsider like herself.

She’d chosen a good man in Thomas, but the wrong man. And she’d lacked the courage to tell herself that before putting on this dress.

Becky slowed to a walking pace and Karlene lifted her face to the late afternoon sky, pale blue already shifting into darker tones. Less than an hour before dusk. Night would fall quickly, as would the temperature. She needed a plan.

She squared her shoulders and inhaled the expansive Texas sky. Even bigger than the beautiful land at her feet. Always there like Joey.

Karlene checked the horizon out of habit and spotted a horse coming straight for them at full gallop from an eastern angle. It was not someone from the church. The figure was bigger than her fiancé. For a moment her breath caught and her imagination played a trick. The rider looked like her late grandfather, and a familiar feeling of love expanded in her chest as she watched how he rode with ease, as though he and the horse were one.

She shook off the feeling and tried to coax Becky into a trot, but the mare huffed and refused. The other rider was angling to cut her off, his horse fresher, the cowboy seated squarely in a saddle.

There was no avoiding it. She was caught.

Tears of frustration welled in her eyes. She wasn’t ready to explain herself, or to be guilted into returning to the church. And she definitely wasn’t ready to face the small town rumors and hubbub that was surely building around her sudden departure.

“Karlene!”

She urged her tired horse faster, steering away from the approaching rider. Her inner thighs and seat were already sore from the abuse of riding bareback.

She sighed, defeated, as the sound of hooves tearing up the pasture grew louder. She turned Becky, ready to face her opponent. She squinted against the setting sun, then shielded her eyes as the cowboy drew up alongside her.

It was Joey. And there was no heat in his gaze. No invitation.

Just concern for tagalong kid Karlene.

“Why did you nod at me?” she snapped. If it weren’t for him, she’d be in that church, marrying the man she loved right now. She’d have found a way down that aisle. She’d have found a way to make the dream work, and she’d have what she wanted.

She swiped at her eyes. She was such a fool where Joey McCall was concerned. He’d probably only meant to be encouraging, and she’d thought…

She shook her head at herself. He hadn’t been asking her to choose him, and yet…she had done just that.

And now she could see that she had, in fact, chosen absolutely nothing.

“How did you know where to find me?” Karlene snapped, her tone tight. “Who sent you here, Joe?”

Joey pulled back on the reins, controling his dancing horse. “Nobody.”

And as for how he’d found her, he’d just known. It was like in the mornings when he stepped out on his porch and knew whether it was going to rain.

After Karlene had left the church doorway, the room had been still for a long, heavy beat. Then he’d found himself jogging down the empty aisle. Ahead of Thomas, ahead of her family.

Once he’d reached the church’s outer door, and seeing her free Becky from the carriage, he’d stopped cold, forcing traffic to jam up behind him, giving her the gift of time. Not that she’d needed it. She’d been impressively fast, as though she was ranked the world champion of runaway brides.

Karlene had been away before her mom could even finish her impromptu scolding.

Then Joey had been in his truck, burning up the road, lurching to a halt in front of his barn. He’d saddled his horse, Cavalcade, grabbed the star bag he kept fully stocked and at the ready for longer rides. Then, recalling what Karlene was wearing, ran inside and scooped up a change of clothes. He’d been off, angling toward the distant town without even thinking how impossible it could be to find Karlene.

But now that he had, he held his horse alongside hers, his stallion’s nostrils flaring from the brisk ride’s exertion.

Karlene was taking in their surroundings, as though only just realizing how far she’d ridden from town, and how she’d drifted to a familiar trail they’d blazed a dozen times to the old cabin in the hills. The log building had once been used by cowboys to stay in while looking over calving herds, but was now abandoned other than the few times a year they snuck up there for a camp-out. The mostly non-existent trail, at this point, was only a quarter mile from Joey’s ranch.

“Where you headed?” he asked.

“Don’t know.” Her knuckles were white on the reins, as though she expected him to wrangle them from her.

She brushed her hair from her face, shiny locks having slipped from her up-do and framing her cheeks. She looked so much like that lost kid he’d always known and protected he almost forget she was that stunning bride who’d awoken him less than an hour ago.

“The cabin’s still an honest forty-minute ride.” He slid off his horse. “If you’re quick, you might get there before night falls.”

Her horse looked tired, but the slightly wild and panicked look in Karlene’s eyes faded with his suggested plan. She nodded, reaching across the horses for his star bag as he worked it free of the saddle, obviously not yet ready to face the music or the McNaughtons. Or even head back to her mostly-empty apartment in San Antonio which he’d helped her pack up and move to the ranch a few days ago. Even if they moved her stuff back, her lease expired in less than a week.

Lots to sort out and he’d bet she wanted to be alone, to let her thoughts settle into something that made sense again. Then when she had a plan, he’d help her execute it.

And right now, the cabin, the hills, the solitude—it would all help her recalibrate. He could almost see the stars hiding above them right now, and how they’d peek out one by one and then all in a rush. How the quietness of the hills would surround her like a comforting blanket. He’d bet she’d be right as rain within a day and ready to take action.

Why she’d bolted from the one thing she’d been dreaming about since her grandparents retired and sold their ranch when she was fourteen, he wasn’t sure. He had ideas, but nothing concrete. The poor woman had thought she’d spend every summer on that Spragg ranch and then take it over when she was ready.

“Trade horses.” He reached up for her hand and she took it.

In a fluid move, she leaned down toward him, trusting he’d catch her as she slid from Becky’s back. He wrapped his arms around her; the dress curtaining them for a moment as the long skirt trailed behind. He gave her a brief hug, releasing her. She whacked the skirt into place and Joey handed her Cavalcade’s reins to hold.

Her eyes welled as she took in his fresh, saddled horse, her head resting briefly along the horse’s neck. He re-buckled the star pack to Cavalcade’s saddle beside the bedroll. His star kit was like a bug-out bag for cowboys and she’d know what essentials to expect, as he always kept it stocked and ready for spending a night out in Hill Country.

The kit was a challenge, one he, Karlene and her brother Blake would take a few weekends a year. They’d grab the star bag and their bedrolls. They’d sleep under the stars, using his stocked items and nothing more, thumbing their noses at the modern world. If they had matches, a few cans of beans, a pocket knife, water, a first aid kit, flashlight and a few other essentials, they were equipped to deal with anything.

He wasn’t sure if it was fully stocked for the needs of a runaway bride, however. Although there was a new addition—a filled flask. That would surely help.

“The radio’s charged in case you run into trouble.” He patted the secured star bag. “You know the channel I’ll be on.”

He eyed her dress and the formerly white satin shoes that looked like they’d aged about twenty years in the past hour and tugged a bundle he’d wedged between the bag and saddle. “I brought you something to change into. Not sure how it’ll fit, but better than a wedding gown.”

“Well?” Joey asked as Karlene came out from behind her horse, dressed in his clothes.

His broad forehead creased, seeing her in a pair of his jeans, a flannel shirt and vest.

But there was still no heat in his gaze. He was acting reserved, careful, like she was a fragile kid in need. Not a grown woman he’d turned into a runaway bride with one heated look of longing.

She was such a fool for this man.

Karlene held her arms out at her side. “Better than the dress?”

The jeans were stretched to the limit across her hips, the shirt loose as the man was built, not an inch of him uncarved by hard work and long days of physical activity on the ranch. The shirt was a comforting blend of worn coziness and the familiarity of his aftershave. She had a feeling that in his haste, he’d gathered whatever was on his bedroom floor. Somehow that was more soothing than him thoughtfully selecting fresh items from his chest of drawers.

“It’ll do,” he said, his tone slightly gruff. He took his cowboy hat and dropped it on her head, knocking the last few pins from her hair and sending her locks cascading lopsidedly. The hat was warm, soft, and a bit too big.

She laughed despite it all and returned it to him. “You keep it. I’ll destroy it.” She knew what a pretty penny the McNaughtons had paid for that hat. All the men in the wedding party had new felt hats as beautiful as this one.

He held her hand, balancing her as she stepped into a pair of his old boots. Smooth soles, indented with the impression of his toes. He then helped her into Cavalcade’s saddle before launching himself onto the back of saddle-less Becky while clutching the wedding gown under his arm. He settled himself in the curve of the mare’s back, reins in hand.

Karlene swallowed, taking in Joey’s wide shoulders, the gentle roll of his biceps pushing against the tuxedo jacket’s sleeves, the flatness of his stomach, the thickness of his quads. She loved everything about his appearance, from his slightly too long curly black hair to those pale blue eyes that felt like they were some kind of crazy gift from the universe. The man was a model cowboy, the kind of man she’d been determined to find in Thomas.

The kind of man she’d thought for one fleeting moment that she might have…

She cleared her throat. “Thanks, Joey.”

“If anyone comes looking for you…?”

“Tell them you don’t know,” she said. She glanced at the dress. “You can burn that.”

He rolled the gown into a lacy ball, jamming it under him like a stolen cushion from someone’s great-grandmother.

When he looked up at her, it was with familiar concern for that tagalong kid she’d always been. But then his gaze turned into something softer, something unidentifiable that made her shift toward him without thinking until she slipped in the saddle, catching herself.

“Be safe,” he said. “Stay on the trail. Don’t get lost and get to the cabin before nightfall. It’s going to be a cold night.” He frowned up at the sky as though expecting snowflakes to fall.

“I won’t get lost,” she said darkly. “And I won’t freeze. This is Texas.”

He narrowed his eyes, both of them well aware of the crazy weather the state could throw at them at this time of the year.

“And if you need anything…”

She opened her mouth to finish his patent joke that she should call someone else, even though he was the only person she could always count on.

But he beat her to the punchline, changing it with a serious and somber, “You call me.”