Some Cowboys Come Home for Christmas (Keagans of Copper Creek #9)

Chapter 1

1

Carter Keagan

T he darkness swallowed me whole .

The phrase wasn’t something Carter had ever understood fully—at least not until a few months ago. Darkness wasn’t something he’d been afraid of. Evenings in Colorado were peaceful, tranquil, and something to be cherished. When the stars filled the skies out past the city limits, and they twinkled— really twinkled—he felt truly happy.

That was before he’d made the biggest mistake of his life.

The metal chair beneath him creaked with even the smallest movement. Someone coughed on the other side of the circle and then cleared their throat. The speaker was seated directly at his side.

“That’s when I realized that I wasn’t just hurting myself. I was hurting those I loved.”

The muscles in Carter’s jaw tightened. Did the addict beside him even love those people? How could he do all those bad things and still tell himself that? At least Carter was honest with himself. A person like him wasn’t capable of love. That was why he’d stolen that money. That was why he’d run away from home. And that was why when things got darkest, he returned home with zero intention of making things right.

He didn’t deserve the love of his family. Wade… Caleb… the rest of them. His family shouldn’t trust him, but that was on them. They were blinded by their family values and their trust in the Lord, though if he were honest with himself, that’s something he needed to work on.

Part of Carter wanted to be worthy of their love. He wanted to turn back to a time when he was someone deserving of trust and loyalty.

Carter scowled at his hands. He wrung them together and then flexed them as the man beside him continued speaking relentlessly. If the people in this group knew what he was doing, they’d look at him differently. They’d most definitely judge him.

Somewhere in Denver there was a bookie who had Carter’s name written in red. The man who also moonlighted as a loan shark probably even had an expiration date listed next to Carter’s name.

That was why Carter had come back. He needed cash, and he needed it quick. The only person willing to risk hiring him was Wade. His own brother.

He worked his jaw as the guilt and disdain for himself got stickier—like tar on hot pavement. Wade was the one who’d gotten him into this support group. He’d thought it would help. The only thing that Carter learned from this group was how to hate himself more.

A glass ornament from the oversized Christmas tree shattered on the floor across the room. He lifted his head to see the petite brunette he’d noticed on the first day he’d come to group. His eyes locked on her as she ducked down to pick up the broken pieces. Her face was blotchy and red now as her eyes darted around the room.

She’d shown up at the house on Thanksgiving night, and he’d been completely thrown off by her presence. There was the briefest flicker of recognition in her gaze, but she’d quickly covered it up and requested to see Emma Hart—Caleb’s fiancée—and incidentally the newest celebrity to move to Copper Creek.

He hadn’t gotten her name, but he wished he had.

No. Those thoughts weren’t appropriate.

Someone like her wouldn’t want to touch him with a ten-foot pole. Just by looking at her, he could tell she was one of the good ones. She had that aura—the one that said she was one step away from being raptured. She had a daughter. That had been a surprise.

No , he berated himself once more. He wasn’t here to watch her. He wasn’t here to wonder about her. He was here to get his group therapy hours because Wade had insisted.

His fingernails dug into his palms, and he turned his attention to the current speaker. The worst part about being in this group wasn’t listening to people vent about the state of their lives. It was actually hearing them talk about hope and how happy they’d become once they’d changed their mindset.

He huffed with frustration. Carter had been torn into two versions of himself. There was a part of him that he’d left in the city and one that he’d brought home. It wasn’t that he wanted to go back. On the contrary, if he thought it was possible, he would never leave Copper Creek again. Unfortunately, that simply wasn’t in the cards for him.

Eventually he’d have to go back to Denver to pay off that bookie and then disappear from Colorado altogether. He could still hear those threats hanging over his head—the ones the bookie made when Carter skipped town. Somehow, he’d gotten Carter’s number. There was no escaping it.

Carter leaned over and placed his head in his hands, his elbows on his knees. The throbbing in his head was almost impossible to ignore. Those threats to his life weren’t hanging on him nearly as bad as the guilt he had snaking through his stomach. He’d stolen two grand since he’d been back. It wasn’t nearly as bad as what he’d taken before, and yet he could barely stand to look at his growing stash as he continued to siphon it from the money the ranch was making.

“Carter? You okay?”

He lifted his head, his vision blurry. Everyone stared at him. He glanced at each one, then gave a curt nod. When everyone went back to listening to the current speaker, his thoughts returned to the money he owed the bookie.

It was only ten grand. It could have been so much worse. He could probably even ask Wade for the money outright. But his brother had gone to bat for him. He’d done so much for him that Carter didn’t think he could survive seeing the disappointment in his oldest brother’s eyes. Food, clothes, a place to live, and trust he hadn’t earned. Everything a loving brother could offer.

Slumping back against the chair, causing it to screech a little on the floor, he heaved a sigh. The meeting would be over in about ten minutes. He could last that long. Just ten more minutes of listening to people whine or gloat.

His gaze swept over to where the woman was now sweeping up the glass from the floor. He could have sworn she worked full-time at the country club, but when she said she was Emma’s realtor, he’d been thrown off. Granted, in this day and age, it wasn’t uncommon for people to have multiple jobs—especially people with kids.

From the looks of it, she was part of the cleaning service. He’d watched her long enough to gather that much. She didn’t look very happy. He’d gotten good at reading people. That was one of the perks of learning how to make it on his own.

Then again, it could be a side effect of turning into a gambler.

“My wife found a half-empty bottle of whiskey behind the dishes in the cupboard. I don’t even remember putting it there.” The older man shook his head. “I’ve been four months sober. Now I have to worry about her finding the bottles I’ve stashed and assuming the worst.”

“Did you tell her it wasn’t recent?” the ringleader asked.

He shrugged. “It’s no use. She won’t believe me. I made so many mistakes when I was drinking.” He stared around the group with hard, sad eyes. “I’m not that man anymore.”

Carter snorted, drawing some dark looks in his direction.

The leader held up a hand to keep the other man from speaking. “Carter, would you like to offer something to the meeting?”

Carter hadn’t spoken once in this group. He’d always brushed aside every request. But with all the eyes from the group on him now, he couldn’t avoid it any longer. He shifted in his seat and folded his arms. Then he looked that man in the eyes. “You’re kidding yourself if you think you’re not the same man.”

The guy stiffened, and his face turned red.

“I mean, think about it. We’re the accumulation of our mistakes, right? You’re still that man whether you like it or not. What are the statistics that you’ll never fall off the wagon? Not good. Chances are high you’re going to return to your old ways one way or another.”

“Is that what you really believe, Carter?” the group leader asked softly.

Carter shrugged. He didn’t have the energy to fight anyone. They wanted to know what was on his mind, and now they had it. He glowered at the floor. Time was up. Why weren’t they being released? For heaven’s sake, he just wanted to go home so he didn’t have to deal with this scrutiny any longer.

The group leader cleared his throat. “I suppose we’ll touch back on this subject the next time you all come in.” He gave Carter a firm stare as if to say he needed to think long and hard about whether or not he wanted to be part of this group.

Well, the joke was on him. Carter had zero interest in being there.

He got to his feet and grabbed the chair to return it to the metal rack near the refreshment table. There were about nine addicts in this little group. They used to meet somewhere else, but at some point, Shane had welcomed them to utilize his space. It wasn’t difficult, seeing as he held group sessions for military vets, too.

“Thanks, but I’m busy,” a familiar, soft voice uttered. Her words echoed through the room, drawing Carter’s attention.

He glanced over his shoulder to see one of the younger men in the group chatting it up with Emma’s realtor. She took a small step backward, clearly uncomfortable by his proximity.

“Maybe I could get your number so we could set something else up,” the man tried again.

Carter frowned. Even from where he stood, he could tell the woman wasn’t interested.

She gave the man a small smile and shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

The man frowned and took a step toward her. At that moment, Carter grabbed the back of the man’s collar and yanked him backward. The man stumbled a step and shot a furious gaze at Carter. “Geez, man. I was just trying to get her number.”

“And she said no,” Carter growled, placing himself between the man and Emma’s realtor. “I’m beginning to realize why you had such a hard time dealing with your gambling issues. You don’t know when to stop.”

The man clenched his hands into fists. His eyes flickered to the woman, then back to Carter before he strode away. It wasn’t until the guy had returned to the group that Carter realized his own heart was racing. If it had come down to it, he would have gone toe-to-toe with the man. He’d gotten into his share of fights over the last year or two.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He stiffened, remembering now that the woman was still behind him. He glanced at her, then faced her fully. “Don’t mention it,” he muttered. He practically drank her in, noticing all the details he couldn’t get from across the room or even under the porch light at his place.

There was a deep sadness in her eyes—one that spoke to him and sliced right through him. She was going through something, and she was struggling. He peered at her harder, and she shifted uncomfortably under his stare.

She looked down at her feet and let out a nervous laugh. “I should probably throw this away,” she murmured as she gestured to the dustpan with the remnants of a red Christmas ornament. She pushed past him and he turned, his eyes following.

His heart went out to her. It ached for her.

Carter had never been the type of guy who needed anyone in his life. Not a family. Not a girl. And most definitely not a damsel in distress.

And yet, he couldn’t fight the urge to be there for her, to protect her—even if it meant protecting her from people like himself. She hadn’t been wearing a wedding band. Either she wasn’t married, or she wasn’t proud of her marriage.

That detail didn’t matter. If she didn’t have someone in her life, she deserved to have one—and one that was better than anyone participating in his group therapy.

Including himself.