Nearest Thing to Heaven (Maverick Junction) (25 page)

Time for a good heart-to-heart with himself before he went down to Sophie. He’d denied her claims, but too much of what she’d said hit home.

He pulled out the box Sophie had been going through and removed the lid. One at a time, he took out the ornaments—and the memories.

The first was a green, hand-painted glass ball with a red-nosed reindeer sprawled on a rooftop. It had been his gift to Julia when she was thirteen. Every year after that, he’d given her an ornament. And Julia, being Julia, had kept every single one.

He couldn’t bring himself to hang them on the tree without her, but he’d carefully packed them away. The boys might like them when they started their own families.

The instant Sophie had said she was snooping, dread filled him. He’d known what she’d unearthed. She’d opened that one box he’d avoided for over four years now. His very own Pandora’s box.

She’d unwittingly unleashed its powers, and he’d handled it badly. Very badly. This wouldn’t be an easy fix. No simple kiss and make up here. This called for some serious atonement. He’d hurt her, and flowers, even jewelry, wouldn’t compensate for what he’d done. What he’d said…and hadn’t said.

But, damn, when he’d seen her holding that star, he’d about lost it. These past years had been hell. And it was Julia’s fault. Her decision, her deceit, had caused all this hurt and pain.

Yet that hadn’t been the real root of his anger this time. He met his eyes in the mirror. It was way past time to come clean. Anger was easier to deal with than the real emotion bubbling inside him.

Fear rode him hard.

Big bad Ty Rawlins was scared to death. His wife and friend was gone. He’d loved Julia. They’d been together since grade school. And then she’d made a decision that ripped them apart forever.

The fear raging through him now didn’t come from losing her, though. The worst had already happened there, and he’d somehow survived. This overwhelming fear rose from somewhere else. Some
one
else. Sophie London.

She wasn’t Julia. No. Sophie was unique. She was a promise. She was new secrets to learn.

He loved her.

And it was time he told her so.

But when he went downstairs, the house was empty. The oven was on, and the scent of food cooking caused his stomach to rumble.

“Tink? Where are you?”

She didn’t answer. After a quick search through the downstairs rooms, he headed to the second floor. Not there, either. When he walked into the guest room, his stomach hit the floor. Empty. Her bag was gone.

But the room smelled like her, that light, flowery scent he loved. He dropped down on the edge of the bed and covered his face with his hands.

He’d pissed her off, and she’d gone back to Dottie’s. Well, she was safe, at least. Before he left the barn, he’d checked with Jimmy, and Nathan was still behind bars.

But Ty had been an ass and hurt her, probably nearly as badly as Nathan had. At least emotionally. Sophie’d put herself out there. Had come home with him, shared his bed, and loved his kids.

And when she’d asked him to share? He’d treated her like a pariah.

Pulling his cell from his shirt pocket, he called Haley. “You about home?”

“Fifteen minutes away.”

“I hate to ask, but could you keep an eye on the boys when you get here? Dinner’s in the oven.”

“Trouble with Sophie?”

He swallowed. “Yeah.”

“You know what you have to do.”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe? Come on, Ty. You’re the boss man. You’re used to taking the lead and making things happen. What are you waiting for?”

“Haley—”

“You love her.”

“That obvious?”

“Oh, yeah. So tell her.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re right. I’m gonna do just that when I find her.”

“Find her?”

“Long story. I may be a while.”

“That’s okay. Take as long as you need.”

“You’re a doll.” He hung up and sprinted down the stairs.

But when he got to Sophie’s, she didn’t answer the door. He let himself in with the key he’d pocketed night before last.

He knew the instant he stepped inside that she wasn’t there. The place felt empty. Dead. He swore a blue streak as he rushed from room to room.

With a sinking feeling, he realized all her things were gone. She’d packed. She’d left Maverick Junction. Heading outside, he called Cash.

When his friend answered, Ty asked, “Is Sophie there with Annie?”

After a slight hesitation, Cash said, “No. She and Annie are on their way to the airport. I thought you knew.”

“Shit.”

“I take it you screwed up.”

“You don’t know the half of it. She’s leaving out of Austin?”

“Yep.” Cash rattled off Sophie’s flight information. “Don’t think you’ll catch her, but good luck.”

Ty tried both Sophie’s and Annie’s numbers, but both went directly to voice mail. He tossed his phone on the seat, threw the truck into gear, and peeled out of the drive headed for the airport. But with every passing minute, he grew sicker. Cash had been right. He wouldn’t make it.

Heading through the terminal doors, he saw Annie coming toward him. Too late.

Ty walked Annie to her car, then strolled through the crowded lot to his own truck. He needed a few minutes to get his head together. Sitting in the airport parking lot, he watched the sliver of moon ride higher and higher in the sky.

Haley would stay till he got home, so the boys were covered. Another call to the sheriff’s office confirmed that the county taxpayers were still footing Nathan’s room and board.

Ty opened his glove box and dug through the mess. Somewhere mixed with all this crap, he had Dee’s phone number. He let out with a small whoop when he struck pay dirt.

Dialing the number, he rubbed his chest. He’d lost Julia. That had totally been out of his control. But this situation with Sophie wasn’t. Time for him to make some decisions. She’d been right. He could live in the past or confront it and move on.

At some point, without even realizing it, he’d made up his mind. He was more than ready to step into the future. With Sophie.

If she’d still have him.

She didn’t know he loved her. How could she? He’d barely admitted it to himself. If she didn’t love
him
, well, he’d just have to change her mind.

Dee answered the phone, sounding more chipper than a person had a right to be at this time of the night.

Quickly Ty explained who he was.

“Yeah, Sophie’s mentioned you.”

“She has?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Listen, Dee, she’s on her way home.”

“Tonight?”

“Right. And she’s not too happy with me.”

“Uh-oh,” she said.

“Uh-oh is right. Will you keep an eye on her? Make sure she’s okay?”

“Is Nathan going to be a problem?”

“No. He’s here in Maverick Junction, but right now he’s warming a bunk in our jail.”

“He didn’t hurt her, did he?”

“No, not really.” Ty didn’t figure it would serve any purpose to go into details. She’d undoubtedly see Nathan’s handiwork in the morning.

“Boy, I goofed up, didn’t I?” Dee cleared her throat. “I’m sorry Nathan found out where she was. If she’d told me what was going on, I’d never have given him that package with her address on it.”

“You had no way of knowing,” Ty said. “It’s not your fault. Sophie doesn’t share well.”

The minute the words left his mouth, Ty wished them back. Sharing didn’t seem to be high on either of their skill lists. He certainly hadn’t been open with her. And that’s exactly why he was here and she was on a Chicago-bound plane.

The dashboard clock read twelve thirty-eight. a.m. It was officially December twenty-fourth. Christmas Eve.

He started his truck, and strains of Elvis’s “Blue Christmas” came over the radio.

Ty could have wept.

A second chance at love had been dangled in front of him. Yet when he’d decided to reach out and grab it, it had been yanked away.

Damn her. And damn Annie for bringing her into his life.

But most of all? Damn himself for being too dim-witted to see what was right in front of him. For being too obstinate to let go of what he’d had, to snatch up what he could have.

And wasn’t that a kick in the pants?

S
houts and running feet woke Ty from a long-in-the-coming sleep.

Christmas Eve had been a bust without Sophie, but he’d struggled through it. Even after the boys finally crashed, sleep eluded him. It had been a little after two the last time he’d checked his bedside alarm. His sheets were tangled from hours of restless tossing and turning.

Opening one eye, he groaned when he registered the pale pink, pre-dawn sky. More than anything, he wanted to throw a pillow over his head and go back to the dream he’d been having. But that wouldn’t work.

Santa and his reindeer had landed on their roof last night, and the jolly old guy had, undoubtedly, let himself in by way of the fireplace chimney to deposit gifts under the tree.

The triplets rushed the bed and clambered up.

“Get up, Daddy. Hurry!”

“Yeah, come on.”

“We didn’t peek,” Jonah said. “We came to get you first.”

“Like you said,” Jesse added.

Ty tossed the covers aside and stretched. Then, surprising the boys, he rolled and caught all three in his arms, pinning them to the bed and tickling each in turn.

As they hooted and hollered, he said, “Merry Christmas, guys!”

“Merry Christmas, Daddy,” they echoed.

Trouble scrambled into the room and leaped onto the bed. When his rough pink tongue slurped the side of Ty’s face, he pushed him away, wiping the back of his hand over his cheek. “Ugh. Off me, you mangy mutt.”

“That’s not a mangy mutt,” Jesse said. “That’s Trouble.”

Ty made a show of squinting at the pup, now licking Josh. “You’re right. It is.” He sat, bringing the boys upright with him. “You munchkins ready to see what Santa brought?”

“Yeah.” They tumbled off the bed and raced for the door, Josh bouncing off the jamb when the three of them didn’t all fit at the same time.

Ty waited for the tears, but they didn’t come.
Well, what do you know?

He’d plugged the tree in before he’d headed upstairs to bed last night—rather this morning—right after he’d forced himself to eat the cookies and drink the milk the boys insisted on leaving for Santa. He grinned. Tough job, but somebody had to do it. He sure was glad they’d decided on Oreos.

Ty didn’t consider himself a romantic, but the tree, the room, the pile of cheerfully wrapped presents, all looked magical in the early-morning light.

The boys stopped in their tracks at the base of the stairs. The expressions on their faces said it all. Oh, to be a four-year-old on Christmas morning again.

His thoughts turned to Sophie. She’d insisted the gifts themselves needed to be beautiful, and she’d been right. It did matter. And it mattered that his boys meant enough to her to take the time to help make this morning special. More than anything, he wanted her here beside him to share this moment.

In a flash, awe gave way to the need for gratification. The boys made a mad dash for the tree and tore into the treasure trove like a wrecking ball on an old house. The three made short work of the wrappings, their shouts and screams of joy escalating with each scrap that hit the floor.

Buried at the back of the tree, they discovered the gifts Sophie’d placed there before she’d left.

“She got something for all of us, Daddy.”

“Yes, she did.” A knot formed in his stomach.

They unwrapped her presents and hung the Santa Claus fish ornaments she’d given them on the tree. Jesse added the one that looked like Trouble, then Ty hung the Wurlitzer jukebox decorated with Christmas greenery she’d chosen for him, remembering how good she’d felt in his arms dancing to the one at Bubba’s.

Josh turned to him, the small art kit from Sophie in hand. “Why didn’t she stay, Daddy? Is she mad at us?”

The lump in Ty’s throat made it damn hard to speak. He swallowed, trying to come up with an answer. “No, honey, she’s not mad at you.”
She’s mad at me
. “She had work to do. It was time for her to go home.”

“Is she gonna come back?” Jesse asked.

“I don’t think so.”

“She could live with us,” Jonah, ever the compromiser, suggested.

“Yeah,” Josh agreed. “We can take our toys out of the extra bedroom. We don’t need a playroom, do we?” He looked at his brothers.

They shook their heads.

“Call her, Daddy,” Jesse insisted, toying with the hem of his pajama top.

God, these kids were breaking his heart. “Honey, I can’t do that.”

“Why?” Josh’s bottom trembled.

“Because,” Ty said, lifting the boy off his feet, “it’s Christmas. We’ve got places to go. Grandma and Grandpa Rawlins expect us for lunch. Then we have to head over to Gram and Papa Taylor’s house.”

“Will they have presents for us?” Jesse’s eyes glinted.

“I bet they will.”

“Daddy?” Jonah tugged at Ty’s pant leg. “Aren’t you going to open your present?” He pointed at the sole wrapped gift, which leaned against the wall.

Ty hesitated.

“You have to open it, Daddy,” Jesse said. “We want to see. It’s from Sophie.”

“You think so?”

Josh sighed. “Yes, ’cause she wrapped hers in special paper.” His tone implied he really shouldn’t have to be telling his father this as he held a shred of his up to the present. “They match. So it has to be from Sophie.”

“By gosh, you’re right.” He grinned. Somewhere she’d managed to find Christmas paper with a tiny Tinker Bell flying around a decorated tree.

How could she have left without saying good-bye? Without giving him a chance to beg her forgiveness.

Josh tugged on the other leg of his jeans. “Come on, Daddy. Hurry up. What’s in it?”

“I don’t know. Let’s see.” He ran a finger beneath the fold on the paper and peeled it back. His heart staggered.

She’d caught him and the boys fast asleep on the sofa. In an unguarded moment, all of them relaxed. Even Trouble was catching a few
z
’s.

His family.

And then he spotted the tiny fairy curled up asleep on Trouble’s ear. His heart did a fast handstand before slipping back into place. He wasn’t sure his life ever would.

When he and the boys hit his parents’ home, the place turned into a madhouse of noise and activity. The boys practically crawled under the tree, shaking gifts and trying to guess what was in them. Football blared over the living room TV, the volume way too loud in order to accommodate his father’s hearing.

His dad raised the beer he held. “Merry Christmas, Ty.” He turned to the boys. “Santa make it to you hoodlums?”

“Uh-huh,” Jesse answered.

The other two joined in to tell him what Santa had brought, then Jesse and Josh turned their attention back to the new packages.

Jonah crawled out from under the huge blue spruce and headed to the train set up on a table in the corner. Ty grinned. Boy after his own heart. He and his dad had put that together every Christmas. This year had been no exception. Amazing the thing still ran. But things used to be made to last.

Ty placed the bags of gifts they’d brought under the tree.

“Why don’t you boys unload those?”

“Okay, Daddy.”

His mother stuck her head around the kitchen doorway. “There you are. Merry Christmas, honey.”

Ty wrapped her in a hug and kissed her cheek. “I smelled your prime rib halfway down the drive. I’m starving.”

“It’s almost ready to come out.” She turned to her husband. “Wyatt, don’t just sit there. Get the boy a drink.”

“He’s got two feet,” Wyatt groused.

“I can get it, Mom.” Ty homed in on the fridge.

“I’ll take another while you’re there,” his dad called.

“Men,” his mother grumbled under her breath.

“Ouch,” Ty said. “I fall in that category, too.”

“That’s right. You do.”

Puzzled, he turned to a plate on the counter, grabbed a handful of olives, and popped them into his mouth.

“What’d I do?”

“You have to ask?”

“Obviously.” He flipped the tops off a couple longnecks.

“You were supposed to bring Sophie with you.”

“How can I do that? She’s in Chicago.”

“Exactly.” At the sink, his mother didn’t even turn around. “You screwed up, son of mine.”

“I—” Ty closed his mouth. What could he say? He
had
screwed up.

“Nothing to say for yourself?”

“Not at this moment.” Beers in hand, he moved into the living room, far safer territory.

Fifteen minutes later, drying her hands on a tea towel, his mother walked into that neutral zone. “Wyatt, why don’t you turn that off—or at least down enough that the rest of us can hear ourselves think?”

Reluctantly, he picked up the remote and muted the sound.

Hands on her still-trim hips, Sadie said, “So, what do you say, kids? Want to open those packages before we eat?”

Enthusiastic hoots and hollers answered her.

“You’re a smart woman, Mom. This way, the kids might actually sit down and eat when it’s time.”

“Grandmas are wise women.” She smiled. “Boys, why don’t you play Santa and distribute the gifts?”

“Okay, Grandma.”

Ty sat in a rocker by the tree and read the tags for the kids.

The noise level rose considerably as kids and adults alike tore wrappings and exclaimed over gifts. Ty leaned back in his chair and watched the boys, wearing their new Dallas Cowboy helmets, race cars over the floor, the furniture, and each other.

It was a good day. He had a tremendous family, and he should be happy. One key element was missing, though. And he didn’t know what to do about it.

Didn’t know there was anything he
could
do.

His mom put an end to his reverie. “Come lift the casseroles out of the oven, Ty.”

Within ten minutes, hands were washed and everyone seated at the table. Heads bowed as his dad said grace. Food was passed, plates filled, and Christmas dinner got under way.

His mom had set up a card table for the boys. It kept them close and a part of things but gave the adults a chance to talk.

“You look like you could use some of this.” His dad held out a bottle of wine.

“Could I ever. It’s been a long day already.”

Wyatt leaned over and put a hand on Ty’s shoulder. “Son, I know I’ve said this before, but it bears repeating. You’re doing one hell of a job with these boys. Your mother and I are proud of you.”

“Thanks, Dad.” He helped himself to a tamale, a slice of prime rib, and some sweet potato casserole. After a couple bites, though, he pushed the food around his plate.

His mother added several spoons of cornbread dressing to his mix. “You’re not eating. You need to go see her.”

“What?”

“Sophie made you happy again. She made you whole. You can’t let her walk away without pleading your case.”

“Mom, we’re not what she wants.”

“Are you sure of that?”

He raised his eyes to hers. “I’m not sure of anything anymore.”

“There’s only way to find out, son,” his dad added. “Talk to the girl.”

“Yeah, Daddy. Talk to the girl,” Jonah piped up. Then he turned in his chair to face his grandfather. “Who’s the girl, Grandpa?”

The adults’ eyes met, and they started to laugh. Jonah joined in.

“Sophie, honey,” his mom told Jonah. “Your daddy’s going to take a trip.”

“Where?”

“To Chicago. He’s going to go talk to Sophie.”

“Yay.” All three boys, milk ringing their mouths, clapped their hands.

“Can we go, too?” Jesse asked.

“No, you’re coming to stay with Grandpa and me for a few days,” Ty’s mom said.

The boys bounced another round of cheers off the walls.

“Hey,” Ty said. “Don’t you think I should have some say in this? That maybe you should consult me first?”

His mother stared at a spot on the far wall as though giving his question some thought, then simply said, “No.”

“Mom, I’m not doing this.” He kept his voice low.

“Yes, you are. I’m not having you mope around here like some lovesick calf.”

“I’m not. Besides, what if she says no? What if she really, truly doesn’t want us? This.” He waved a hand to indicate the room, his family.

“Then she’s not who I think she is…and you’re better off without her.” His mother pushed back her chair. “Who wants some Texas pecan pie?”

Ty thought the day would never end. After they totally stuffed themselves, they hung around his folks’ for a while. Josh fell asleep, but Jonah and Jesse didn’t stop for a minute.

After Josh woke, they loaded their haul in the car along with more leftovers than they could possibly eat and made their pilgrimage to Julia’s folks. Matt and Babs and their kids were already there. More gifts, more food, more holiday cheer.

He wanted to gag the next person who wished him a Merry Christmas, but the kids had an incredible day. On the way home, they chatted nonstop about all their new toys.

“Can we play with our helicopters when we get home, Daddy?” Josh asked.

Ty rubbed his tired eyes. “It’s pretty close to bedtime, bud.” Stars were springing to life in the sky, and a crescent moon shed its paltry light.

“Ten minutes, Daddy?”

“We’ll see.”

“That means no.” Jesse pouted.

“No,” Ty said, his patience wearing thin. “It means we’ll see.”

By the time he pulled up in front of the house, though, the kids, worn out from a huge day, were sound asleep. One by one, he carried them in and put them to bed.

Thank God! Sprawled on the sofa, Ty stared across the living room at the water color he’d set on the fireplace mantel. Even in the dim light of the Christmas tree, he could make out the images Sophie’d captured on canvas. She’d nailed him and the kids and had even caught Trouble in a rare moment of stillness.

But it was that damn blond-haired, sleeping fairy clinging to Trouble’s ear with the I’ve-got-a-secret smile that drew his eye. She’d stolen his heart, then stowed it away on a plane headed for Chicago.

Lord, he missed her.

Closing his eyes, he tried to imagine what it would be like to never see her again, never kiss her again. A pretty dismal picture.

It had taken Annie leaving for Cash to realize how much he loved her. Ty wondered if he could he be as dense as that lunkhead. He’d never thought so, but the proof to the contrary was right in front on him, wasn’t it?