Nearest Thing to Heaven (Maverick Junction) (19 page)

BOOK: Nearest Thing to Heaven (Maverick Junction)
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S
ophie woke the next morning to a winter wonderland. Inside, the temperature in her apartment had plummeted, and she pulled the covers up over her head. Maybe she’d stay in bed. Dottie had warned her a change was coming, but darn, it was cold!

A quick check of the bedside alarm assured her she’d officially turned into a sloth. It was a little after nine. She guessed she could forgive herself since she’d rattled around till almost dawn, unable to sleep.

Why hadn’t she stayed with Ty? The kids were there, yes, but he’d been right. They could have handled it.

Cold feet?

Yes. Literally and figuratively!

She hopped out of bed, jammed her feet into a pair of fluffy slippers, then hurried into her robe. If it got any colder, she’d have to do something about warmer pajamas. Or snuggle up with Ty.

That thought had heat racing through her.

Still, she stumbled into the living room and turned up the thermostat. While she waited for the room to warm up, she grabbed an afghan tossed over the back of the sofa and wrapped up in it.

The phone rang, and she answered it after checking caller ID. “Good morning, Ty. How’s Josh?”

“He’s good and telling everybody who’ll listen about his ER trip.”

“I’m glad.”

“Did you bring any mittens?”

She frowned. “Sure. I wore a pair to the airport in Chicago.”

“A heavy coat? Hat?”

“Yes to both.”

“Great. How about the boys and I pick you up in, say, fifteen minutes? We’re finishing breakfast here at Sally’s. I thought with the snow and all, it might be a great day to find our Christmas tree.”

She hugged herself. Oh, my gosh! Christmas trees and Ty all rolled up in one! “I’d love that.”

The minute she ended the call, she flew off the couch and into the bathroom. Brushing her teeth, she decided a good combing was the best she could do with her hair. A flick of mascara, a touch of lip gloss, and she hurried into the bedroom.

Plowing through the closet, she pulled out her old sweatshirt and jeans, her long-sleeve shirt and heavy jacket. In her suitcase she found a pair of warm socks along with her mittens, cap, and scarf. She hadn’t expected to need these till her return flight.

Although, all this might be overkill. How long could it take to choose a tree?

A long time, she discovered. For the Rawlins crew, it wasn’t simply a matter of walking down to the little shop on the corner.

Once she was settled in the truck, Jonah said, “Daddy brought the truck ’cause it’s snowing.”

“I see that.”

Jesse asked, “Are you gonna ride Molly again?”

“When?”

“Today,” Jonah said.

“To help us get our tree,” Josh added. Then he patted his head. “Did you see my boo-boo?”

“I did. Your daddy said you were really brave.”

“I was. The doctor said I was a big boy.”

“Good for you.” She blew him a kiss in the back seat.

Sophie turned to Ty, who was easy behind the wheel of the big truck even though the roads were snowy. The wipers ran, clearing the big flakes as they began to fall again. He’d cranked the heater to high.

“Where exactly are we getting your tree?” she asked.

“At the edge of the north pasture. There’s a nice stand of pines there, and I think we should be able to find what we want.”

“You’re cutting your own?”

“Sure. What did you think?”

Feeling like an idiot, she shrugged.

He laughed. “You thought we’d planned to buy one, city girl?”

She settled farther down in her coat. “That is what most people do.”

“Not us,” Jonah said.

The other two boys shook their heads.

“We have our own, don’t we, Daddy?” Josh asked.

“Yes, we do.” He raised his eyes to the rearview mirror and winked at the boy. Then he tugged at Sophie’s scarf. “You’re in Texas now, darlin’. We do things a tad differently here than you do up north.”

“I’m sure some people there harvest their own trees.”

“I’m sure they do.” He ran his finger down the tip of her nose. “Now get that nose out of the air and just enjoy today.”

“My nose isn’t—” She leaned back against the truck seat. “Fine.”

“Turn on the song, Daddy,” Jesse pleaded.

Sophie shot Ty a questioning look. He smiled and shrugged, then hit a button. Dr. Elmo’s “Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer” started.

All three of the boys started singing along, the lyrics haphazard, melody close, and volume deafening.

“What can I say?” Ty asked. “Bloodthirsty little devils.”

“Wouldn’t something like Alvin and the Chipmunks be better?”

“That was last week’s favorite. We listened to it till I heard it in my sleep.”

“Understood.” She shifted in her seat to face him. “Thanks for inviting me. This is great. Another first. Christmas tree hunting at its most basic, most enjoyable best.”

“I’ll remind you that you said that when you’re cold and wishing you were sitting inside in front of the fireplace.”

“I don’t think so.”

*  *  *

An hour later, Sophie still hadn’t lost her silly grin. They’d found the tree. All of them circled it, studying it from every angle. The pine was beautiful, its shape and size absolutely perfect.

Even the horse ride had been enjoyable. She’d felt safe on Molly today. Comfortable.

Sophie scuffed her booted foot over the ground. The snow wasn’t deep, and random bare spots stuck out. It wasn’t Chicago snow by any means. But it lay over the earth like a thin layer of icing. The air was cold, but a long way from frigid.

Ty moved back to his horse to retrieve the ax he’d brought along. Sophie had a momentary pang at the idea of actually murdering the tree. When she whispered that to Ty, he stared at her, incredulous.

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Not really.” She wrung her hands.

He shifted the ax to his other hand. “Sophie, I can’t—”

“I know. The kids will get such a kick out it, and it’ll bring far more enjoyment in your home than out here. Blah, blah, blah. Go ahead. I just won’t watch.” She put a hand over her eyes. “And I’m being silly, aren’t I?”

“You’re being you.” He kissed her forehead.

“Daddy kissed Sophie!”

The shrill pronouncement brought echoes from the other two, who picked it up as a chant. “Daddy kissed Sophie, Daddy kissed Sophie.”

The three danced around in the snow, their noses red.

“Uh-oh,” Sophie muttered. “Now you’ve done it.”

“You think?” Grin devilish, Ty turned to the boys. “Want me to do it again?”

“Uh-huh! Do it again!”

Before she realized what he was up to, Ty wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her in. His lips covered hers in a not-quite-chaste kiss.

She laughed and pushed at his chest. “Bad Daddy!” she said, low enough for only him to hear.

“Mmmm.” He smacked his lips together. “Good Sophie. Sweet as sugar.”

“Go cut down that tree, Paul Bunyan.” She ran over to the boys. “Have you ever made snow angels?”

*  *  *

Ty swung the ax, but his attention wasn’t on his work. Sophie and the boys lay in the snow, waving their arms and legs, making angels. One by one, his sons gave it up to throw themselves over Sophie, who drew each one in with little tickles.

He looked at the angels they’d created and thought of Julia. Blinking snow from his eyes, Ty lifted his gaze Heavenward. Imagined her up there watching their boys playing with Sophie. Was she smiling or shedding tears?

Pressure built in his chest. Conflicted? Oh, yeah. Talk about a tug of war. He felt trapped somewhere between the past and the present, unable to reach toward a future.

Damned if he knew whether he and his boys were headed for something wonderful or standing in the path of a tsunami-force heartbreak. He swung again, his ax biting deeply into the pine.

Covered in snow, Sophie got to her feet and moved to her horse to unload the thermos bottles of hot chocolate. She poured cupfuls and passed them out. Chocolate rings around their mouths, the boys stood beside her and watched as Ty made the final cuts.

“Timber,” he called, and the boys cheered.

When the tree crashed to the ground, she carried a steaming cup to him. “Here you go, lumberjack. Good job.”

“Can we touch it?” Jesse asked.

“Sure. But it’s sticky, so be careful.”

“Are you going to decorate it today?” Sophie asked him.

“I think we’ll wait till tomorrow. By the time we get home, the boys will be tuckered out. They’ll have had about as much excitement as any of us can stand for one day. It’ll be more fun if we wait. And we’ll have far fewer tears. Too much stimulus results in at least somebody crying—every time. Believe me.”

He finished his cocoa and handed the cup to Sophie. “Come on, guys. Help me get this tied up and ready to go.”

They all pitched in and in no time had the tree hitched to the back of Ty’s horse.

The snow had quit falling, much to the chagrin of the boys. Still, it was beautiful…and cold. Ty’s breath formed a cloud around his head. It had been a good day. How damned lucky could a man get, he wondered, as the horses plodded on.

Despite the boys’ protests, he left the tree outside when they reached home. “I’ll lean it here against the house. That’ll give all the branches a chance to settle and let any dead needles fall out here instead of inside.”

“Won’t it get lonesome?” Josh asked.

“No, son, it won’t. My guess is a couple birds’ll come by to keep it company.”

A pair of solemn little eyes studied him. “Okay, Daddy.”

Sophie stood watching the interplay, a small smile on her lips. “Good job, Daddy.”

He gave her an aw-shucks grin. “Part of the game. You’re probably cold and tired. I put together some Crock-Pot chili this morning. Should be done. Why don’t you ladle some up while we guys take care of the horses? By the time we’re done, it’ll be cool enough for the boys to eat. There’re oyster crackers in the pantry.”

“Impressive. Milk to drink?”

“For the boys. I’ve got a pot of coffee ready to go. If you want tea—”

She shook her head. “Coffee’s fine.”

He watched her walk away. That blond hair with the white coat. The spitting image of one of those angels she’d made with the boys.

Except maybe her butt. He doubted angels had butts as fine as hers.

*  *  *

Lunch with Ty and the boys…the whole day…had been a gift. An early, unexpected Christmas gift. Did he know how blessed he was?

Yes, he did. She saw it when he studied their little faces, when he knelt to put himself on their level, when he hugged one close after he’d been hurt or disappointed.

Ty might have been left alone to daddy three brand-new infants, but he was doing one hell of a job. How many men could have coped with what he had? The loss of his wife. The loss of life as he knew it. And three new little lives dependent on him for everything.

And despite the meat loaf fiasco, the man could cook. That chili ranked in the top ten she’d ever tasted. By the time they’d dived into it, she was famished. The cold weather, the horse ride, chopping the tree, making snow angels…

Now, home in her apartment, Sophie soaked in the big old claw-foot tub. Filled to the rim with heavenly scented bubbles, it made her feel decadent. Pampered.

The Bing Crosby Christmas CD she’d picked up at Sadler’s played quietly in the background. “White Christmas” seemed apropos after today’s snow.

Sinking deeper into the bubbles, she worried—because everything was almost too perfect.

Jesse, Jonah, and Josh were all becoming very important to her. A bad thing. Because she and their daddy had to say good-bye. Really soon. It would break her heart to kiss those little guys farewell.

And what about kissing their daddy good-bye?

Despite her best intentions, Ty had burrowed under her skin. As far as she could see, she had two choices. The first? End it now. Tell him the next time he came by that she wouldn’t see him again. She put a soapy hand to her heart and rubbed at the hurt. She’d already tried that, hadn’t she?

Her second option? Enjoy it while she could. Spend as much time as possible with him and the boys. Make memories to take home with her.

Disgusted, she shook her head. Stupid her, thinking she actually had a choice. Time to stop worrying about tomorrow and enjoy today.

She raised her leg and lathered. Sang along with Bing and dreamed. All too soon, though, the tiny vanity clock had her scurrying out of the tub.

Wrapping herself in a towel, she scooted into the bedroom to find something to wear tonight. Annelise and Cash were home. They’d flown in from Paris this afternoon, and everybody was meeting at Bubba’s for dinner.

Even though Sophie’d insisted she could drive herself, Ty was picking her up. As if she didn’t drive through snow in Chicago. However, she had to admit that the road crews up north were much better prepared to cope than the ones here. They got a lot more practice.

She decided on jeans and a fuzzy maroon sweater. Last time, she’d totally overdressed for the roadhouse. Tonight, she’d blend in a little better. Not that it mattered all that much. She’d already met most of the people she’d see there. She loved that.

It wasn’t that she didn’t know the name of the deli owner on her Chicago street or the name of the man who sold hot dogs from the street kiosk or the people who ran the small mom-and-pop stores. She did.

Still, there was a real sense of belonging here.

But she didn’t belong here, she reminded herself as she slipped in her hoop earrings. She’d already stayed far longer than she’d originally planned.

The phone rang. The number looked familiar, but she couldn’t place it.

“Hello?”

“What the hell’s going on?”

“Excuse me? I think you have the wrong number.”

“Don’t pull that on me, Sophie.”

“Kyle?”

“Your new boyfriend slashed my tires!”

“My new— Where are you?”

“Where the hell do you think I am? I’m standing in the middle of my driveway, looking at four shredded tires.”

“Are you talking about Nathan?”

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