The Kidnapped Christmas Bride (Taming of the Sheenans Book 3) (11 page)

She’d come to see him as others saw him—a dominant male, fierce and physical—but a man who was in need of reason and self-control.

She’d finally heard what everyone said….that he was reactive, responding instinctively without regard to risks and consequence, and she’d seen that they were right. He refused to grow up, refused to control his temper, refuse to bend or yield which meant he could never be depended on.

She loved how beautiful he was, remembered how amazing it felt when they were together. Making love with Trey wasn’t just sexual, it was emotional and spiritual….or at least it used to be before she was so angry with him. So frustrated and hurt.

And so she’d found the opposite of Trey in Lawrence Joplin, and when Lawrence proposed the third time, she put aside her reservations, telling herself that passion was less important than predictability, and accepted his marriage offer, determined that the future would be different from the past.

But now everything had changed again and instead of being teary and conflicted, she was…calm.

Relieved.

There was that word again. She almost felt a little guilty for feeling relieved that she wasn’t marrying Lawrence. And now she wondered if that was why she had felt so many butterflies earlier, at the church. Had she been getting cold feet and she just wouldn’t admit it? Had she not wanted to marry him but was too afraid of hurting his feelings to say something?

She hoped she wasn’t that much of a coward. She’d been through too much in life to be a doormat…

But no, she wasn’t a doormat. She’d stood up to Trey plenty of times, refusing to marry him until he got his act together and grew up and acted like a man.

She’d stood up to her family when they’d pressured her to stop seeing Trey.

She’d ignored the gossip in Marietta when she’d chosen to be a single mom rather than marry a man she didn’t think was ready to settle down.

No, she wasn’t a doormat. And she had a spine. But she also was tender hearted when it came to those she loved. And she loved Lawrence, but probably more as a friend than a lover and life partner.

Which was why it baffled her that Lawrence had taken it upon himself to tell TJ why his father was in prison. Lawrence had promised her he wouldn’t say anything, agreeing to leave it to her so she could tell TJ when she thought the moment was right.

But Lawrence had broken that promise. Why?

And if he’d broken that promise to her, how much others had he not kept?

‡

T
hey arrived at
Bigfork at a little after midnight, the high full moon reflecting white off Flathead Lake as they drove south fifteen miles on Highway 35 to the little town of Cherry Lake.

If they kept going another eighteen miles they’d come to Polson.

Trey’s mom, Catherine Cray, had spent her early years outside Cherry Lake, a member of the Bitterroot Salish tribe that formed part of the Confederated Salish and Kootenai Tribes of the Flathead Nation.

All but the northern tip of Flathead Lake was part of the extensive Flathead Indian Reservation, and when Trey’s mother’s grandparents died, they left an old cabin on the lower slope of the Mission Mountains, and a couple acres of land to their daughter, hoping she’d return and raise her sons on the land of her ancestors.

Trey’s father hadn’t minded taking the boys to the cabin with its spectacular view of Flathead Lake for fishing trips, but he wasn’t interested in his wife’s native ancestry. She wasn’t even half Salish and he wasn’t about to raise his sons as native this, or that.

Trey hadn’t been to the cabin in years, but until recently Cormac visited regularly, and apparently just this past summer Brock had brought Harley and the kids for a ten-day vacation, using the time to rebuild the old stone fireplace, install a new stove in the kitchen, and make a number of smaller repairs.

“Know where we’re going now?” Trey asked McKenna as they drove past the turn-off to sleepy little Cherry Lake, a Flathead Lake town that came alive in summer with tourists and the colorful fresh fruit stands dotting the road selling crates of Lamberts, Rainier and Hardy Giant cherries.

“I had a suspicion when you took 83 north,” McKenna answered, shifting TJ to free her arm, which had gone numb sometime in the last half hour. “When’s the last time you were here?”

“It’s been a long time, but you were here with me. It was a couple years before TJ was born.”

“I remember,” she said softly. They’d driven from Marietta for a long weekend at the cabin in late September. Most of the tourists were gone and the local kids were all in school. It jad felt like they had the lake and town to themselves. “We had fun.”

He shot her a swift glance, expression somber. “We did,” he agreed. “And we will again.”

The last words were spoken so quietly she wasn’t sure he’d even said them. She glanced at him but his attention was on the steep private road that wound back to the cabin.

*

The keys to
the Cray cabin were right where they’d always been, tucked high up the hollowed leg of the wooden grizzly cub gracing the cabin’s front porch. Trey unlocked the cabin’s front door, flipped on the light switch and was gratified to see light flood the open main room, a combination of living room, dining room and small kitchen.

The one and a half story log cabin had been built in the late 1940’s and had just the bare minimum in maintenance until Cormac started paying regular visits ten years ago. The cabin was still rustic, with stacked log walls and exposed trusses in the vaulted ceiling but everything looked clean and weather proofed.

Trey did a quick walk through, flipping on lights in the two downstairs bedrooms and turning on the heater. The windows in both bedrooms were original, and weren’t double paned. Once the wooden shutters were removed, the bedrooms would be a lot colder. He hoped the big cedar chest in the master bedroom still held all the sheets, quilts and comforters. They were going to need to make up the beds and get extra blankets on them, too.

He returned to the truck where McKenna and TJ were waiting. “Got the heater on and the lights on,” he said. “But we’ll need to get the beds made up.”

“If you’ve got clean sheets, I can do that,” she said, shivering as she handed TJ over.

“The cedar chest should be full of them.”

McKenna lifted her full skirts high as she followed Trey up the path to the cabin. Her heels weren’t designed for hiking up a rutted dirt path. “I don’t suppose there are any clothes here? I’m not going to want to put this dress back on tomorrow.”

“I’m sure we can find something for the night, and then tomorrow we’ll go shopping in Cherry Lake, and if Cherry Lake doesn’t have it, Polson or Bigfork will.”

*

McKenna quickly made
up both twin beds with sheets and blankets in the smaller bedroom, before taking a sleepy and disoriented TJ to the bathroom where she stripped off his pants, shoes and socks and then tucked him into one of the twin beds in his shirt.

Trey made up the queen size bed in the master bedroom while she put TJ to bed. She’d slept in the master bedroom the last time she was here. It seemed as if they’d spent most of their time at the cabin in bed.

But she wouldn’t think about that. There was no point dwelling on the past. She hadn’t agreed to let TJ spend Christmas with his dad so she and Trey could rekindle a romance. She wasn’t interested in romance. She’d like to be friends with Trey, though. And she’d like to see TJ and Trey have the kind of father-son relationship they both craved.

*

McKenna could hear
Trey moving around in the central room, bringing in firewood and stacking it next to the big stone fireplace.

She lay on her side in the narrow twin bed listening to him open and close doors and arrange the firewood.

It was strange lying here, listening to him work. It was one in the morning. Wasn’t he tired?

Or was he out there working because he felt all wound up, too?

McKenna turned onto her back and stared at the ceiling. She wasn’t sure how she felt, being back at the Cray cabin. This was a place shared by the five Sheenan brothers. They never invited outsiders. It was just for family. When Trey had brought her here that September, they were still newly engaged.

Now she was back and her emotions were all over the place.

It might not have been a good idea, coming here for Christmas.

But then, this Christmas wasn’t about her, and what she wanted. This Christmas was about Trey and TJ. This Christmas was about them having a special holiday together.

Restless, she flipped her covers and quilt back, floorboards creaking beneath her bare feet as she went to his bed. Even though Trey had left the wooden blinds closed, slivers of moonlight slipped through the cracks and streaked the log frame.

TJ looked small in the twin bed, his cheek nestled deep into the down pillow, his hair dark on the crisp white pillowcase.

She leaned over and lightly kissed his warm cheek, before tugging the covers higher on his shoulder.

She loved him so much. From the beginning she’d tried to do everything right. She wanted him to have everything a little boy needed. Halloween costumes and Christmas traditions. Swim lessons, summer vacations, Saturday matinee movies.

But despite her best efforts, she hadn’t been able to give TJ everything. He didn’t have a daddy that was there, and it was the only thing he asked for.

Again and again and again.

A daddy to take him fishing. A daddy for cub scouting. A daddy for wrestling and hugging and loving.

A lump formed in her throat. She’d agreed to marry Lawrence for TJ’s sake. It was a terrible thing to admit. She didn’t need the company as much as TJ needed a father figure.

She’d thought Lawrence was the answer. At least, she’d hoped he was the answer. But Lawrence and TJ had never really clicked. She could admit that now. She could see that she’d tried to force them to like each other, planning activities to help them get along. She’d thought if she tried hard enough eventually they’d grow fond of each other but it hadn’t happened. Lawrence, a forty-year old bachelor when he’d begun dating McKenna, couldn’t relate to a headstrong little boy who wasn’t interested in learning cribbage and chess. TJ wanted Lawrence to box and run and wrestle. He wanted physical activity not quiet games.