True-Blue Cowboy Christmas (25 page)

Summer had no idea how long they stood there in silence. When Caleb had first stepped into the kitchen, she'd thought she'd seen Delia behind him, but either Summer was losing it, or Delia had slipped back upstairs.

Oh, Summer hoped she stayed there. Stayed away from this. Caleb was bad enough. Poor overly sick Delia did not need to be dragged into this.

“Caleb, go back upstairs,” their father said, his gaze never leaving Mom's.

“Oh, my darling little boy all grown up. Not in jail. Not dead. Impressive. But tell me something, Son. How many people have you hurt with that bad blood of yours?”

Caleb took a step toward Mom, but Mom let out a little screech, stopping everyone. Summer could only stare, wide-eyed, as her father rammed his wheelchair into her mother.

This was a dream. A hallucination. Things had not fallen apart like this.

“You little piece of shit,” Mom all but spat, looking down at her legs where his chair had hit.

“I can't haul you out like I did then, but I sure as hell can make you bleed if you say another word about my children.”

Summer had never heard her father talk like this,
emote
like this. But it was all wrong. Love and family were what was supposed to bring him out. Not…
her
. Not hate.

“You are the
cause
of all this. You. Montana. You don't get to hurt me.
I
am the victim here. You and your offspring are ev—”

Dad grasped her arm, and Mom jerked and writhed, but Dad's grip didn't loosen. “I told you once never to come back here, and I will repeat myself. But if you try it a third time, you will regret the very day you laid eyes on me.”

“As if I already don't. I will end you. You have no idea what I'm capable of. You think you're so clever? You've turned them all against me now?” Mom laughed, low and horrible, like nothing Summer had ever heard.

Had her escape caused this panic in Mom? Because Summer didn't remember her being this unstable, this threatening, this…desperate.

It hadn't been like this before. It hadn't.

Or had it and she'd been too afraid to see it? To see it wasn't
normal
for your mother to use you to earn money from strange men?

“Stop,” Summer said, so angry with herself when her voice came out weak. “Stop. Please. Just…” She tried to maintain her composure, to think clearly. She peeled Dad's thick fingers off Mom's arm, stepping between them, facing her mother, and turning her back on the Shaws. She had to fix this. It was her fault Mom was here, spewing her poison, being even more threatening than usual.

“Mom, we have to go.”

“No. I'm not going anywhere. This man stole my home from me. My children.” Mom's eyes filled with unexpected tears, and Summer's chest clenched. “You're not going to abandon me, baby, are you? You see what a monster he is. He kicked me out of here, knowing full well I was pregnant with you. I can't leave here without some retribution. Some repayment. He left us. He forced us out. You and me. He owes us.”

“After you told me you fucked my best friend and said the baby was his. After you slapped our son and called him the devil. Threatened my girl. You left me no choice, Linda. And now Summer is grown and she has a choice, and it won't be you.”

“I'm…not, am I? I'm not yours. That's why…” That
was
it. All of Summer's fears had been completely realized, all at once. Which was silly. What did it matter? He'd never welcomed her, accepted her, talked to her about much of anything. Caleb and Mel were why she'd stayed. Not him.

This shouldn't matter.

“You are. You're mine,” he said gruffly. “I didn't know that at the time, but she tried to get money out of the other guy. He wanted a paternity test, and she wouldn't do it. You're mine.”

“No, Summer, you're mine.” Mom grabbed her arm and yanked. Hard. “You were mine. You have always been mine. You were supposed to be my ticket. You were going to make it all right. You failed me. This is all your fault.”

She'd heard all of that from her mother before, but there was a kind of hysteria behind it Summer had never seen, a physical violence with very little restraint. Paired with the fact Mom had just blamed Dad for everything…

Maybe…maybe Summer wasn't at fault at all?

“Where…” Mel came to a skidding halt in the kitchen, and Summer couldn't even begin to decipher all the emotions that chased over her older sister's face. But why was she here? How had she come? This was getting worse and worse.

“What are you doing here?” Summer demanded.

“Delia called me. I didn't believe it. I really didn't…”

Mom's grip slowly gentled and slid down Summer's arm, and Summer felt nauseous. Terrified and reeling.

“Isn't this fun? A family reunion.” Mom smiled, and it almost seemed genuine. “Just in time for Christmas. Can you believe it?” She seemed so close to being honest, but that gleam didn't leave her eyes, and the panic in Summer's gut didn't diminish. Someone took her arm—Delia, pulling her away from Mom and into the circle of her and Caleb, Mel and Dan. And there was their father sitting at the head of their little circle. Facing off with Mom.

Who only smiled. “Now, where's my granddaughter? I'd love to meet her.”

All those emotions that had once been clear on Mel's face vanished into stone. “You'll set eyes on her over my dead body.”

“Which will happen over mine,” Dan added, stepping in front of his wife.

Everyone was here, gathered around each other, stepping in front of each other to protect one another, but…where was Lissa?

“Where…?” Summer whispered.

“Dan's parents are in town for Christmas. They've got her safe at home,” Mel said under her breath before she muscled in front of Dan again.

“This is quite the welcome home,” Mom said easily, trailing her hand over the counter beside her. “I guess I can't expect presents under the tree with my name on them, but—”

“I don't think you know what the word
welcome
means. No one wants you here. Go back to whatever rock you climbed out from under.”

Mom's smile sharpened on Caleb. “I see you haven't changed.” Mom's gaze drifted to Delia. “That your whore or your wife?”

Again, Caleb had to be restrained, and again Summer knew she'd lost all control, and this was all her fault. But before she could make a plan, find a step, before she could figure out a way to manipulate Mom into leaving, Dad shouted.

“Enough. You will leave my home. You will leave my property. Or I will call the police and have you arrested for trespassing. I think you know me well enough to know the strings I can pull will keep you sitting in jail for a while.”

Mom sighed like someone who'd just been tasked with a tedious but ultimately meaningless job. “I really didn't want it to come to this,” she said, reaching behind her. She pulled a gun out from behind her back, and Summer thought for a brief second she would faint.

But she had to be strong. She'd brought this evil on the people she loved. She had to be the one to fight it. To win. She had to.

Or is it time to rally
with
the people you love and fight this together?

“Now, I don't
want
to kill anyone.” Mom's gaze drifted to Dad. “Except maybe you.” The gun was trained on his head, and Summer tried not to whimper. “But either I'm leaving with a heavy purse, or I'm leaving in a bloodbath. So take your choice.”

“She's fucking insane,” Delia muttered.

“Yeah, I think I know why she was so worried about me being bad blood,” Caleb returned. “Came straight from her.”

“Stop talking. Start paying up.” She turned the gun toward Caleb, but he didn't flinch or falter. He simply made himself bigger to protect Delia.

Mom smiled again, that sharp, dangerous smile that said she would do anything—anything—to get what she thought she deserved. “It's in you too, my darling son.”

“Guess I chose love and sanity over being a hateful bitch.”

Something cracked, loud, and Summer screamed, but it wasn't a gunshot. Mom hadn't pulled the trigger, and no one was falling over or bleeding. It had sounded like a door slamming. But…they were all here. Who was left to come?

“Who's there?” Mom yelled, the gun glinting in the random filters of light from the Christmas tree. She turned toward the sound, still pointing the gun at the circle of her family. She whirled on them. “Who else would be here?” she demanded, waving the gun.

Everyone looked at one another, incapable of coming up with an answer. Who was left? No one. There wasn't anyone else who would be here at one in the morning.

“Maybe it's the wind,” Delia offered. “Or a ghost.”

“All right. Who's coming with me while I check this out, huh?” Mom demanded, still waving the gun.

Summer had to put a stop to this. Get Mom out and then she could think. “Me. I am.”

She took a step forward, but Mom laughed. “No, I'm not holding a gun to my insurance policy's head.” She pointed the gun at Dad. “You're completely useless in that thing. So…who's it going to be? My darling daughter. My darling son. Or the people they
love
.” The word
love
dripped off her tongue like poison. “Yes. Love. You.” She pointed the gun at Delia. “The whore.”

Everyone stepped in front of Delia. Even Dad wheeled in tighter to block her. “You touch my wife, and you won't walk out of here,” Caleb growled.

“Wife, is it? Oh, and don't think I didn't notice all the stomach touching. Let me guess…another little grandchild on the way. Well, I
am
lucky. Now, don't get any ideas about them calling me grandma. I'm far too young to be a grandma. Far too young to be tossed out on my ear by some man for some young slut who couldn't be half the woman I am. Not half.” She slammed the gun against the wall, and everyone winced.

“I'll go,” Dan said. So calm, so controlled.

Mom let out a heavy sigh. “You'll do. But don't think I won't shoot you if you even make a move to touch me. Got it? Actually, that's a good idea. We can talk about what you think your life is worth.”

“Let go of me, Mel,” Dan said evenly, prying his wife's hands off his arm with the help of Caleb. “I'll be right back.”

“Do not go out there,” Mel ordered, the emotion leaking out in her voice, in the tears filling her eyes.

“It will be fine,” Dan said firmly, disentangling himself and walking toward Mom. “Let's go check things out, Linda.”

Mel reached after him, the tears now streaming down her cheeks, but Caleb held her back, shielding her from Mom's satisfied smile.

Dan disappeared out the door with Mom, and Summer had never felt more helpless, more useless, more at fault.

“I'm so sorry, Mel,” Summer said, fighting tears of her own.

Mel brushed the tears away with angry fists. “No, none of us are sorry. This is on her.
She
is the one who is doing this, and she will regret it.”

Summer didn't voice it, but all she could wonder was
how
.

* * *

Thack had no idea how any of this had happened. One minute he was going to warn the Shaws, and the next minute he was standing on the Shaw porch listening as Summer's mother threatened them with a gun.

He'd flung open the porch door and run in the opposite direction, trying to hide and dial his phone at the same time. He'd managed, breathlessly explaining what he'd witnessed to the dispatcher, hoping like hell she didn't think this was another false alarm.

“We've had another call from this residence as well. There's a deputy already dispatched, but it'll be ten to twenty minutes yet.”

Thack swore and shoved the phone into his pocket. How could he possibly find twenty minutes to spare when someone was waving a gun at people? He had to pray for ten or less.

He couldn't risk himself, but he couldn't…not. Not knowing the Shaw house well, he searched the back side, looking for a way in, keeping an eye and ear out.

He found a back door. It was locked, but he couldn't say the frame or the lock looked particularly sturdy. He shoved his shoulder against it, and the door gave a little, some of the rotted wood splintering.

It took about ten more good shoulder knocks with his full weight to break through, and he stumbled into a little unfinished room. It was some kind of unused cellar, full of crap, but it was connected to the house and that's all that mattered. As long as that door wasn't locked—because he wouldn't be able to break that one open without fear of being heard. He picked his way through the boxes and old tools and parts, tried the knob, and held his breath when it gave.

He couldn't risk himself. Not when he had a daughter sleeping at home who needed him, but there were other people at stake here, other children. No matter how much Kate meant to him, he didn't know how he'd live with himself, even
for
her, if he didn't try to save Summer and her family.

He pushed the door open just enough to peer out. He saw an empty living room with a glowing Christmas tree, such a cheery antithesis to this night. He took a deep, steadying breath and stepped fully into the room. He could hear voices not too far away and he crept toward them.

“I heard something. I know I heard—” Caleb stopped short, as did all the people following him. Delia. Mel, tear-stained. His heart almost stopped that Summer wasn't with them, but he heard her voice.

“Why are we stopping?”

“What the hell?” Caleb muttered.

“I…may have broken in a door,” Thack supplied lamely.

“Who gives a shit? Why are you here?” Caleb demanded.

Summer pushed to the front. “Thack. What…what… Why…”