Chapter 15
Clayton learned the hard way that he hadn’t mastered the art of patience as he’d believed. Waiting for Friday evening to come was the slowest, most cruel type of torture.
But when he spotted the lights of Abby’s car, he was both nervous and excited. By the time he walked to the front of the house from the corral, Abby and the boys were out of the Accord and standing by the opened trunk.
“Are you sure?” Caleb asked, his brow furrowed deeply.
Clayton stopped behind them. “Something wrong?”
All three Harpers whirled around. Both Brice and Caleb briefly met his gaze. Clayton turned his attention to Abby and raised a brow.
“Um,” she hesitated, glancing at her brothers. “We wanted to make sure the invitation still stands.”
Clayton knew she’d included herself so the boys weren’t singled out. And that gesture made him want to kiss her. Abby always knew what to say and how to handle her brothers.
“Of course,” he replied. “I think my mother would chase you down if you tried to leave.”
Caleb elbowed Brice, a huge smile on his face. Brice looked at Clayton and gave a nod before he took his and Abby’s bags from the trunk. Once Caleb removed his bag, and the trunk was closed, Clayton led them into the house.
As usual, his mother had George Strait’s Christmas CD playing, the music flowing from the speakers throughout the house. When she heard the front door close, she hollered for the boys, who rushed to the kitchen.
“She’s been baking all day,” Clayton said.
Abby closed her eyes and inhaled. “It’s amazing. Just what Christmas should smell like.”
He wondered what her Christmases had been like, but decided not to ask then. He wanted her laughing and smiling, not thinking of the past with her mother—or without.
“I’ll take you to your room,” he said. “Have Brice and Caleb decided where they want to sleep?”
She laughed as they made their way to the stairs. “Really? You must have known they would choose the bunkhouse. Both have officially declared that they’re going to be cowboys and work on the ranch.”
He looked back at her as they climbed the steps. “How do you feel about that?”
“If it keeps them out of trouble, I’m fine with it.”
He brought her down the same hall as his bedroom. His gaze was on her face when he opened the door to the guest room and showed her inside.
“Oh,” she murmured softly as she walked in and ran her hand over the red bedspread with a white reindeer and snowflakes. Half of the coverlet was folded down to show white sheets with red snowflakes.
She picked up a rectangular shaped pillow with a white background and four stockings and held it briefly. She replaced it and smiled down at another square pillow that was white with Merry Christmas scrawled across it.
Clayton knew Abby would probably love any of the bedrooms, but for some reason, he’d thought of her when he looked at this room. He’d assumed from the comments that she and her brothers had made that none of them had had a Christmas in the traditional sense. At least not in quite some time.
It had been something he’d never been denied, and something he’d taken for granted. Now, he wanted to give Abby and the boys what he’d always had just so he could see their smiles.
Not to show off his family’s wealth, but to share the love he’d always felt. The Harpers deserved it, needed it even. Especially Abby.
She stood in the middle of the room and turned in a slow circle, taking it all in. She laughed when she saw the two-foot, white Christmas tree decorated with tiny red ornaments sitting on a table. Then Abby faced him. “This is amazing.”
“Enjoy it,” he said as he set her bag on the bench before the bed.
“Oh, I plan to,” she replied with a laugh.
He moved closer to her, staring into her bright blue eyes. All he’d thought about all day was kissing her again. With his hands settled on her hips, he drew her close as his head began to lower.
It was the pounding of feet up the stairs that pulled them apart seconds before Brice came into the room, followed soon after by Caleb.
Brice let out a long whistle as he looked around.
“Damn,” Caleb said.
“Caleb,” Abby admonished.
Her youngest brother widened his eyes as he shrugged his shoulders. “Seriously? Look at this room!”
“I know,” she said in a conspiratorial whisper.
Brice walked up beside Abby and put his arm around her shoulders. He gave her a smile and a squeeze before his gaze slid to Clayton.
In that moment, Clayton saw that Brice was aware of his interest in his sister. Which meant there would need to be a conversation later. It was the least he owed Brice as the man of the house.
“Mr. Ben is downstairs,” Caleb said. “Mrs. Justine says he’s been stealing cookies all day.”
Clayton laughed as he thought back over the years. “They have a tradition that goes back to their very first Christmas together after they were married. He tries to see how many cookies he can steal while she tries to either catch him or stop him.”
“Who wins?” Brice asked.
Clayton found his gaze on Abby. “Mom lets him steal them, and Dad does it to be with her.”
“So they both win,” Caleb said with a nod.
The boys then walked out of the room, talking about the weekend out on the ranch. As they left, Clayton watched Abby’s gaze follow them.
“All Brice has ever known was the revolving door of men our mother brought into the house after our father died. I shielded my brothers as best I could, but Brice saw them. Caleb did, too, but he was so young that it didn’t really register.
Neither of them remembers our father, so they don’t know what it means to have a true relationship.
” Her eyes swung to him. “Your parents are showing them that.”
His brows snapped together when he saw tears well in her eyes. As he moved toward her, she hastily blinked to hold them back.
“I’m sorry,” she said with a sniff. “It’s just that my telling them how two people are supposed to be together fell on deaf ears. They didn’t get it until your parents. And I can’t tell you how much that means to me. Maybe now, they’ll have the right kind of relationships.”
That was one aspect that he hadn’t thought about with the boys, but it had obviously weighed heavily upon Abby’s mind. And it brought forth another question.
“Is that why you didn’t date?”
She glanced away and took a deep breath. “Partly. I wasn’t sure their young minds would understand dating after what my mother did. And they were so scared I was going to leave them, that it became easier not to think about it.”
“And now?” It probably wasn’t the right thing to ask, but Clayton had to know.
“Is different.”
That’s just what he wanted to hear.
When they walked back down the stairs, Abby tried to go to the office, but he grabbed her hand and led her into the living room where all the lights were off except for the Christmas tree.
With the twinkling of the soft white lights and the red-orange glow of the fire, the room looked inviting and cozy. Abby didn’t even hesitate to walk to the tree.
“This one is my favorite,” she declared.
He raised a brow. “The champagne-colored ornaments?”
“Nope,” she said and glanced at him. “It’s the biggest. I always wanted a huge Christmas tree that would take a ladder to put the star on top.”
“What else did you want?”
“So many lights that it was blinding.”
He grinned and walked to stand beside her. “White lights or colored?”
“I’m not picky,” she declared. “I like your mom’s idea. She loves it all, so she does it all. Colored lights on a white tree with purple ornaments. White lights on a green tree with red decorations.”
Clayton reached out and touched the ends of her hair. “So, if you had no budget and were set loose in a Christmas store?”
“I’d buy it all,” she said with a laugh. “My house would drip Christmas in every room.”
“Oh, God,” he said in mock astonishment, his head tilted back. “Don’t let Mom hear you.”
Abby’s laugh drew him in. It was warm and welcoming, and when he was with her, it was like he was coming in from the cold. He could smile and laugh and tease—all of the things he hadn’t done in months.
But Abby’s smile quickly vanished. Clayton studied her, reading the tightening of her shoulders and the frown that meant her thoughts were once more on her brothers.
“I could’ve let my brothers go into the foster system,” she said in a low voice.
“Many people suggested that I should. They said that at eighteen, I wasn’t capable of taking care of them.
” Her chest lifted as she inhaled. “I wasn’t.
I knew that, just as I knew it’d be easier to let them go. I could worry about only me.”
“No one would’ve blamed you.”
Her mouth twisted as she lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I saw what the foster system was. If I could’ve been guaranteed that my brothers were kept together and were sent to a good, loving home, I might have done it. But it wasn’t a chance I could take.”
“Because you love them.”
She looked at him and nodded, the lights of the trees shining like a thousand stars in her eyes. “For six months after mom left, they slept with me in my bed. There were nights Brice wouldn’t close his eyes for fear that I’d be gone when he woke. He kept my gown fisted in his hands all night.”
It made Clayton want to track down their mother and give her a piece of his mind. But he also knew the trio was better off without such a woman. Perhaps that’s why she’d left them. At least that was what he was going to tell himself—and them, if they ever asked.
“I’ve taken it one day at a time for these last eight years. Eight years,” she repeated with a shake of her head. “I don’t know where the time went. I should’ve planned better. By this time, I should’ve obtained a better-paying job so we could breathe easier.”
“Ninety percent of the population lives paycheck to paycheck, Abby. Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’ve given those boys a stable, loving home.”
She looked at him and grinned sheepishly. “I’ve never said any of this to anyone before.”
“I’m glad you told me.” And he meant it. He wanted her to trust him, to share details of her life.
Because he wanted to be with her.
And he recognized that, without her, he was an emotional wreck. But Abby centered things, and stabilized him.
Now, it was his turn to share. “I didn’t want to come home because I’m not the person I was when I left. I’ve been in war and have seen death up close. I’ve killed.”
She moved closer, rubbing her hand up and down his arm. “As you said, you were in war.”
“Not all of my missions were during war.”
“You were a SEAL,” she said. “You were the ones sent in to help others because y’all got the job done.”
He took her hand and looked at the tree. “I see the men I’ve killed every time I close my eyes.”
“And no one here would understand that.”
He nodded and turned his head to her. “It’s a weight that I’ll carry for the rest of my days. I fought for my country, and I saved people. But I was also sent on missions to take out our enemies.”
“The fact that you’re here says you’re a survivor. Unfortunately, we survivors are always left to carry the burden of what’s left. Frankly, I’m glad you’re here. You were needed, and I think you needed this place, too.”
“I did.” But it was more than the ranch that his soul craved.
It was Abby.