Love Inspired December 2014 - Box Set 1 of 2: A Rancher for Christmas\Her Montana Christmas\An Amish Christmas Journey\Yuletide Baby (28 page)

“And you won't tell me?”

She shrugged slim shoulders beneath the sweatshirt she'd changed into before leaving. “There isn't a lot to tell. We moved from town to town. My social life was rather nonexistent. It wasn't as if I dated, went to a prom or hung out with friends. And there were times along the way that men thought, because of our situation, that I, that I...”

He wouldn't make her say it. “You deserve better.”

She released his hand. “Most people do. I'm really okay, Jake. Tonight took me by surprise, that's all.”

“I think it took us all by surprise. In a day or two, as soon as I know we're safe here, I'm going to take a trip to Austin and talk to some of the employees at Lawton's company.”

“Should I go? I mean, what if it's one of them and I need to identify someone?”

“I think we'll know him by his broken nose.”

She laughed the slightest bit and then they finished their coffee in silence.

Sometime close to dawn he allowed her to go to sleep. She curled up on the sofa and in minutes she was out. Jake watched her as she succumbed to sleep and then he stood to leave. He had chores that wouldn't wait. Marty was standing in the doorway. She didn't say anything. Better for him to pretend she hadn't been watching with those eagle eyes of hers.

“I'm going to get some work done, and make sure the guys know what needs to be done today.” He marched toward the back of the house.

“Is that all you're going to say?”

“Nothing else to say.” He grabbed his jacket off the hook by the back door. “And I already know you want to say something. Please don't.”

He was thirty-four years old. He didn't need to have his housekeeper tell him what he was feeling.

If she didn't say anything, he could keep telling himself that Breezy was one more person he needed to take care of and nothing more. Then he wouldn't have to admit to himself that he
wanted
to take care of her.

Chapter Twelve

B
reezy somehow slept for hours on the sofa in Jake's living room. She slept through the twins poking at her face, Duke arguing with Brody and Jake going to town to order grain. She knew all of this because Marty told her.

The two of them were in the kitchen going through recipes when Jake walked through the back door. She looked up from the notebook she was using to copy recipes and made cautious eye contact with the man walking through the kitchen. His mouth eased into a smile.

Marty cleared her throat and pushed an index card across the counter. “What about this one for gumbo?”

Breezy looked at the recipe. “Sounds great. Have you made it?”

Marty nodded and looked a little teary. “I used to make it twice a month on Fridays. Earl and I would have friends over for dinner to play games and I'd make the gumbo. One of our friends would bake bread. Those were wonderful times.”

“Then I definitely want this recipe.”

“And here's one for pizza crust that's so easy.” Marty pushed that card to her, as well.

“Thank you. This means so much to me, Marty.”

“I'm glad to do it. We never had children so it means a lot to me that someone will be using these and passing them down.”

Breezy glanced over her shoulder to check on the twins. They were being very quiet. They had plastic bowls, lids and spoons that Marty had given them to play with. Sometimes the bowls were musical instruments, sometimes they pretended to cook.

Violet turned a bowl over and pounded on it and Rosie tried to take the spoon. A squabble ensued. Breezy started to hop down off the stool but Marty put a hand on her arm, stopping her.

“Give them a minute. They aren't pulling hair or biting, so they might work it out,” the older woman advised.

It wasn't easy to sit back and watch. But eventually Rosie gave up on the spoon. Big tears welled in her blue eyes and she stood and toddled to Breezy. As Breezy reached to pick her up, Rosie sobbed a little. “Mama.”

Breezy held the child close, patting her back. “Aunt Breezy, honey.”

Marty shook her head. “Mama is who you are, Breezy.”

“No, they have, they...” She buried her face in Rosie's dark hair, inhaling the lavender and chamomile scent of her baby shampoo.

Marty rubbed Breezy's back much the way she rubbed Rosie's. “They have you. They have Jake and of course they have all of us.”

“I don't know how to do this, Marty. I'm not prepared.”

“You're doing it, though. Maybe you weren't prepared. We hardly ever are prepared for life's challenges. But we manage. I think if we knew the challenges were coming, instead of taking them on, we'd run.”

Violet had pushed aside her bowl and spoon and joined them. Marty pulled her to her lap. That's how Jake found the four of them. Breezy wiped her eyes with her hand as he walked back into the room, his expression puzzled.

“From recipes to tears. What are you two doing?”

Breezy chuckled a little, the sound mixing with a sob. “We just had a moment.”

Marty pointed at Breezy. “Mama.”

Jake's smile faded. Breezy wanted to say something, to stop him from walking away. She didn't want to take his sister's place, to replace her.

“Jake,” Marty called to him as he walked away.

“Just give me a minute,” he called back.

“I should say something.” Breezy started to get up. Again, Marty stopped her.

“One thing you learn is that when a Martin says he needs a minute, you give him a minute. He and Elizabeth were close, Breezy. They practically raised this family. They cooked. They kept things clean. They kept their dad functioning and sometimes kept him off the drink. Losing Elizabeth was like losing a part of himself.”

He took care of everyone else. So who took care of Jake?

She heard the front door close.

Marty took Rosie from her. “You go. I've got these two. He'll be in the barn. But don't be surprised if he runs you off.”

“I'm not easily frightened.”

Marty grinned at that. “And that's why he needs you.”

Jake needed her. She shook her head at the thought. Jake didn't seem to need anyone. But something small inside her had ignited and she wanted to be the person he needed, the person who was there for him.

She hurried out the back door, grabbing her coat as she went. She hadn't been to the barns on the Circle M. There were several. There was an old barn in the field behind the house. It was wood-sided, gray and weathered with a new metal roof and obvious repairs. To the west of the house was a metal structure. It housed equipment and hay. And then there was a metal building with wide doors that pushed open and a standard door to the side of that. Horses grazed in the field to the right of the barn. In the distance a tractor hauled a big round bale of hay to cattle. She picked this as the right barn.

She didn't know what she would say to Jake but she knew that it was time he let someone be there for him.

The barn was lit with overhead lights down the center of the tall ceiling. On one side were half a dozen stalls. On the side were various doors. She called out for Jake but he didn't answer. She knocked on the first door and got no reply. She opened the door to find a feed room and tack room. The next room held trophies and saddles.

And then she heard a pounding sound and the sound of feet scuffing the earth. She started to knock on the door but knew he wouldn't answer. She turned the knob and opened the door slowly, peeking in as she did.

Jake stood in the center of the room. No, he wasn't standing. He was boxing. The room was a gym. There were weights, a treadmill, a television, chairs and the boxing bag on a stand in the center of the room. He jabbed at it, letting it come back to him and then jabbing again. As she watched, he went at it, pounding hard with both fists.

He was breathing heavily and in the noise she heard his sobs. She should go, let him grieve in piece. But how could she walk away? How could she let this be one more thing that Jake Martin seemed to do on his own?

As she stood in the doorway contemplating her next move, he spotted her and shook his head.

“Go away,” he said in a quiet voice that rumbled like thunder through a stormy night.

She shook her head. He was stubborn. She could show him she was just as stubborn, if not more so. He needed her, whether he wanted to admit it or not. Maybe that's what had brought the two of them together.

Maybe God had known she needed a place of her own and He'd known that Jake Martin needed someone strong enough to stand toe to toe with him, strong enough to be there for him.

He reached for a towel, wiping it across his face before wrapping it around his neck. She closed the distance between them. As she reached for him, he pulled her hard against him, holding her tight.

* * *

Jake hadn't expected her. He hadn't expected her to search him out. He hadn't expected to need her. He'd come to the barn thinking he'd do what he always did. He'd box. Maybe he'd go for a ride. He'd think, figure it out, move on. But the pain had followed him, pounding against him as he'd pounded that punching bag.

It was relentless, wave after wave of grief.

Breezy's arms were around him as he held her tight against him, soaking up the comfort in her embrace, in the words she whispered. He didn't really hear them, but they were there, pouring over him like summer rain.

He pulled her head to his shoulder and kissed her brow. Man, he needed this woman. For how long, though? How long would she be here, soaking up his pain, his grief? How long would she be here to make him smile when only weeks ago he'd wondered if any of them would ever be happy again?

“You can lean on people, Jake.” The words were muffled against his shoulder, her warm breath permeating his shirt. He stroked his hand down the softness of her hair, thinking through the words that she spoke as if they made perfect sense.

What did he say to that? How did he lean on people? If he leaned on someone, how did he stay strong? He hadn't leaned on anyone since...never? Maybe he'd leaned on Elizabeth. Sometimes, every now and then, he leaned on Duke. But Duke joined the army at twenty-one and for eight years he'd been gone.

A long time ago, the day their mother left, Jake tried to lean on his dad. But Gabe Martin had pushed him away, told him to figure out how to turn on the oven if they were hungry. If they were out of groceries, he told him to drive to town but don't get caught.

Elizabeth had been a mess, the same age as him but needing a mom. Duke had been angry and had rode off on his horse. Brody had been about four and still trying to run from the house to chase Sylvia down. Samantha had been little more than a baby.

The grief had finally left their dad but he hadn't been there to lean on. Ever.

When he didn't answer Breezy, she looked up at him, for all the world looking like she had meant her words of comfort.

“You can at least lean on me,” she said with conviction. “We're parents together. That's what parents do.”

He brushed a kiss across her cheek and sighed. “Yeah. Parents.”

And parents were called Mom and Dad. It was natural for the twins to begin to see her as mom, him as dad. He thought that in time they would need that connection. Look at Brody, a kid who'd never had a mom. He was still looking for her.

“Thank you.” He finally croaked out the words.

“Do you have water in that fridge over there?” She nodded toward the fridge at the far side of the room.

“Yeah.” He pulled her with him to open it and grabbed two bottles.

“Is this where you go when you're upset?”

He looked around the room. It had started with a punching bag and he'd built it into this. “Yes, this is where I go.”

“Try going to a friend once in a while.”

She smiled up at him and he felt like a puzzle with the pieces coming together. He brushed a hand across her cheek, tangling his fingers in the silky strands of blond hair. With caramel eyes, melting, darkening, she looked up at him. He leaned, tilting his head to find the right angle as he closed his lips over hers.

She kissed him back, her free hand going to the nape of his neck, sliding into his hair. He tried not to need people.

He couldn't lie about needing her. He needed to pour his hurt into her and have her hold him until it started to heal. He brushed his hand up her back and she stood on tiptoe, her lips soft beneath his.

He eventually pulled back. He had a lot of questions about himself, about her, about the future. They'd have to figure out the answers. Because Lawton had planned this. He'd told Jake when he mentioned making the two of them guardians that he thought they'd both be single, even twenty years from now. Single and lonely, waiting for the right person to come into their lives, so they'd make the perfect guardians for the twins.

Lawton hadn't meant to leave them now. Jake leaned back into the woman standing close to him. Her arms circled his neck and she placed a kiss against his chin.

“Let's go for a ride,” he suggested, amused when her eyes widened.

“Ride? In your truck, you mean?”

“Horses. Come on. It's warm and there's no rain.”

She was his rain. He needed to soak her up like the land after a long drought. For today, maybe just for the moment, he needed her close. Later he'd figure out what to do with these feelings.

She pulled back on his hand as he tried to tug her toward the door. “I've never ridden a horse.”

“You live in Texas. It's time to learn.”

How long had it been since he'd flirted with a woman? Or even let down his guard long enough to enjoy being around a woman? How long since he'd taken a few minutes to relax, to not worry about who was taking care of things? He needed this. And she must have realized because she allowed him to lead her through the barn.

“I'm not sure if this is a good idea,” she said as she stood in the doorway that led to the corral.

He winked. “You'll do great. I'll be right back.”

With two lead ropes he trudged through the corral to the gate. He whistled and the horses looked up, ears twitching as they watched him. He shook a bucket of grain and that got their attention. The small herd, just five of them, headed his way. He opened the gate and culled the two they would ride. A big chestnut he'd been riding lately and a small bay gelding for Breezy.

After the horses were saddled he led her to the corral and helped her up. She put her left foot in the stirrup and swung her right leg over, landing with a thud in the saddle. She looked down at him, unsure, unsteady but with a definite spark of adventure in her eyes.

“You'll do great with Montego.”

“Montego?” She brushed her hand down the horse's neck, still looking more than a little nervous.

“Bay.” He grinned. “Montego Bay.”

He gave her a short riding lesson and then he swung himself into his saddle and rode up next to her. He'd closed the gate to the field and opened the gate leading out of the corral. There were plenty of back trails, and with some daylight left they'd have a good ride.

“Where are we going?” She rode next to him and he had to give her credit, she didn't look like it was her first time in the saddle. She had a natural ease, holding the reins lightly, her heels down and her legs relaxed.

But he could see the slight tremble in her hands, the occasional clenching of her jaw.

“Not far.” He nodded toward the hills in the distance, a half mile back. “There's a pretty stream at the base of those hills. Sometimes there's a deer or two, so don't get too relaxed and drop your reins. If you horse starts, go with the motion and keep a firm hand.”

Her eyes widened. “Will he startle? I thought he was gentle.”

“He's as gentle as they come, but any horse can startle. Get used to the feel of him. Even with a saddle you'll feel him tense. Right now you can feel that he's relaxed.”