1420135090 (R) (11 page)

“Oh, I wouldn’t mind,” Muriel said. “My father always had dogs. I’d enjoy a dog now, but I’m getting too old to take care of one.”

“See, Mom,” Hunter argued. “It would be fine. Wouldn’t it, Amy?”

“It would be great!” Amy had brightened. “Hunter and I would take care of the dog! You and Aunt Muriel wouldn’t have to do a thing. Please say yes, Mom!”

“Why wait so long?” Hunter asked. “We could start looking now, online.”

Kylie knew when she was being railroaded, but things were happening too fast. Dealing with the move, the storm, and trying to put Christmas together, the stress was all she could handle. The thought of puppy puddles on the floor was more than her frayed nerves could stand right now.

“We’ll talk about it later,” she said. “Show me that you can be responsible, help around the place, and keep your grades up. Then we’ll talk about getting a dog. End of conversation.”

It’s what any good parent would say,
Kylie told herself. But her children’s eager expressions had wilted like summer flowers at the first touch of frost. She sensed Shane’s eyes on her, his gaze questioning. What did he think of her?

But why should it matter? Shane had no business putting ideas into her children’s heads without asking her first. The sooner she made that clear to him, the better for all concerned.

An awkward silence had fallen over the table. It was broken by a sound from the direction of the road—the grinding roar of a big machine coming closer.

Hunter was the first one out the door. “It’s a bulldozer!” he shouted. “It’s clearing the snow!”

“Hallelujah!” Shane came out behind him, shielding his eyes from the glare. The town fathers must’ve rented the machine and driver from a local construction company. It didn’t cut smooth like a regular snowplow, but it was doing the job.

Behind it came a truck from the power company with a cherry picker on the back. Shane waved at the driver, a man he recognized from town. With luck they’d have the power on in the next few hours—a good thing, since the generator was running low on fuel.

He would need to clear the driveway out to the road for Henry and Kylie. That done, he’d be able to move his truck. But the snowmobile would still come in handy for the unplowed lanes and for getting around on the ranch. Maybe Henry would sell it to him.

“Maybe I can get Mom to drive me into town later,” Hunter said. “Is there someplace where kids hang out?”

“There’s a burger joint called Buckaroo’s on the end of Main Street. It’s got some arcade games in the back. But with the roads so bad, I don’t think you’d find many kids hanging out there, especially two days before Christmas.”

“Oh.”

“Come on,” Shane said. “Let’s go finish our lunch. After that, if you’re bored, you can help me shovel the driveway.”

Hunter followed him back inside, scuffing his feet. The others were still at the table, Muriel sipping her tea, Henry spooning up the last of his beans. Amy had just set a plate of iced cookies in the center of the table. “We might as well eat them now, since they’re not really Christmas cookies,” she said.

“They look like Christmas to me.” Shane took his seat next to Kylie and helped himself to a cookie. “They taste like Christmas, too.”

“What she means is that they’re not red and green,” Kylie said. “We didn’t have colored icing or sprinkles. But now that the roads are clear, I could drive to Shop Mart and get some.”

Shane’s eyes traced her profile, lingering on the luscious lips he’d kissed last night. Kylie had always been a perfectionist, he recalled. Now she was determined to give her children a perfect Christmas—and everything was working against her.

Part of him wanted to gather her in his arms, rock her like a child, and tell her to quit knocking herself out. He wanted to say that Christmas was about warmth and family and celebration, and that fancy trappings didn’t matter. But something told him Kylie wouldn’t listen to him. And, sadly, neither would her children.

“I wouldn’t try driving if I were you,” he said. “That bulldozer left a layer of packed snow on the road. With those bald tires of yours, you could slide out of control and wreck.”

“You looked at my tires?”

“I gave them a passing glance. I’m surprised you made it all the way here without a blowout.”

“If you need to go to town, I can drive you in my Jeep,” Henry said.

“Thanks, Henry.” She gave him a smile. “But you’ve got better things to do. I won’t ask you to drive me, unless it’s for something really important.”

In other words, rather than impose on Henry, she’d take a chance in that rattletrap wagon on those slick tires and probably end up stuck in a ditch. Too bad her vehicle was parked in the shed; otherwise, he could “accidentally” bury it in snow.

Shane rose from his chair. “I’ll take another cookie. Then I’ll be off to shovel the driveway. No need to help me, Henry. I don’t want you throwing your back out like you did last winter.”

“Maybe you should invest in a snowblower,” Kylie said.

“Hardly worth it when a storm like this only happens once every few years. We’re tough here in Texas. We can shovel. Thanks for lunch, ladies—and for dessert.” Shane slid another cookie off the plate, lifted his coat off the chair, and walked outside.

There were two shovels by the porch and a wide expanse of snow to clear off the driveway. Shane was hoping Hunter might come out and help him, but he didn’t show up. Maybe his mother needed him for something. Or maybe the boy was just tired.

He’d resolved not to get involved with Kylie and her children, Shane reminded himself. But it was already happening. It had started when he’d kissed Kylie last night—a brief, innocent kiss that had rocked his senses in a way he couldn’t forget. Then this morning, he’d gotten to know Hunter, and to like the boy. Now he was concerned about the drivability of Kylie’s car and her safety on the road.

He jammed the shovel under the snow and tossed the load to one side. Damn it, he was getting sucked in—and he wasn’t happy about it. He’d wanted to sell the ranch and make a clean break from Branding Iron, Texas, with nothing to call him back. Later on, if he got tired of being on the road, he could always settle down, but it wouldn’t be here. It would be someplace wild and beautiful, like the backcountry of Wyoming or the Pacific Northwest.

Anyplace but here, where he’d always been—and always would be—a loner with a shadowed past.

His memory drifted back to the week his mother had died. His father had insisted he go back to high school the day after her funeral, and Shane had obeyed. But he’d been hurting with a gut-deep grief so painful that the only ease for it had been doing something to make his wretched life even worse.

Once decided, the rest had been easy. Like someone with a death wish, he’d walked up to the biggest, toughest guy in school, class president and all-state quarterback Ben Marsden. Standing tall and looking into Ben’s steely eyes, he’d delivered the worst possible slur about the cheerleader Ben was dating.

When Ben’s sledgehammer fist crashed into his jaw, Shane had welcomed the pain. His refusal to take back what he’d said had earned him another blow, then another. At first he’d willed himself not to fight back. But then his anger had blazed, and he began trading punch for punch, doing some serious damage to Ben’s movie-star face. By now, a yelling, cheering crowd had gathered, most of them rooting for Ben.

By the time the coach and the principal rushed in to drag them apart, both boys were staggering like drunkards. They’d ended up sitting side by side in the principal’s office, both of them stonily silent, each too proud to blame the other.

Both of them had been sent home with a week’s suspension. Shane had taken off on his motorcycle, lifted a six-pack of beer from the local convenience store, driven down to his spot on the river and drunk himself senseless. When he’d recovered enough to go home and face his grieving father, he’d vowed that, as soon as he turned eighteen, he would leave Branding Iron and never look back.

He hadn’t, of course. His father had needed him, and so he’d stayed. But there was a wild part of him that had never been tied to this town or to the ranch that was now his. That part of him, like a caged hawk yearning to fly, had always yearned to be free.

Soon, Shane told himself, he would be.

Chapter Seven

K
ylie turned away from the sink, where she’d finished washing the dishes from lunch. “Stay here, Hunter. I need to talk to you.”

Hunter had taken the old plaid coat off the back of the chair and was slipping one arm into a sleeve. “Can’t it wait? I need to help Shane shovel snow.”

“Shane will be fine. Sit down.” They were alone in the kitchen. Henry had gone outside. Amy had gone back to her room, and Muriel was dozing by the fireplace in her rocker.

“I don’t get it.” Hunter took a seat, still holding the coat. “You wanted me to show some responsibility. That’s what I’m trying to do.”

“I know.” Kylie dried her hands on a dish towel. She wasn’t looking forward to this discussion. But disappointing her son now would be less cruel than having his young heart crushed later on, when Shane let him down.

“You had fun this morning, didn’t you?” She pulled out a chair and sat across the table from him.

“Yeah, I had a great time.” He eyed her suspiciously. “What’s wrong? I asked you. You said I could go.”

“Yes, I did. And no, you haven’t done anything wrong. I’m just a little worried, that’s all.”

“What about?” The furrow that deepened between his eyebrows reminded Kylie of the way Brad had looked when he was displeased.

“You still miss your father, don’t you?”

“Sure I do. It’s kind of like when he was deployed, except that we can’t Skype and we know he’s not coming back. It sucks. But what’s that got to do with now?”

Kylie’s gaze dropped to her hands. So far, Hunter was making more sense than she was. But this was no time to back off and start over. She needed to voice her concerns.

“What do you think of Shane?” she asked. “Do you think he’s a good role model for a young boy?”

Hunter’s frown deepened. A spark of defiance flickered in his hazel eyes. “Is that what this is about, Mom? You don’t want me hanging out with Shane?”

“It’s just that I remember what he was like in high school. He still rides that old motorcycle, and who knows what else he still does? I can’t imagine—”

“He’s not like that,” Hunter interrupted. “Shane’s cool. He told me he did some stupid things when he was young, but he’s learned better, and he doesn’t want me to make the same mistakes. He even told me to listen to my mother. He said you were smart and knew what was best. Sheesh!”

“Fine.” Kylie bit back any further words about Shane’s character. With her son’s defenses up, there’d be no changing his mind. But she had another, deeper concern.

“Shane’s planning to leave, you know,” she said. “As soon as he finds a buyer for his ranch, he’ll turn his back on Branding Iron and be off to roam the country.”

“He already told me that, Mom.”

“The two of you must’ve had quite a talk.”

“We did, while we were working. What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing. It’s just that . . .” Kylie hesitated. How could she speak her mind without sounding judgmental and overprotective?

“I know you’ve missed having a man in your life,” she said. “But you’re still getting over the loss of your dad. I don’t want to see you get attached to Shane and be hurt all over again when he leaves. And he
will
leave. He’s wanted to get away from Branding Iron for as long as I’ve known him.”

Hunter’s fingers twisted a button on the old plaid coat. His young face wore a pained expression. “Stop treating me like a baby, Mom,” he said. “I’ve had to grow up a lot since Dad died. I know all about losing people and stuff like that. If Shane rides off into the sunset, like in the movie, I can handle it fine.”

“But why a man like Shane? You’ll be starting school in a couple of weeks. You’ll have plenty of friends your own age.”

“Get off my case, Mom!” The burst of temper came without warning. “I’m not five years old anymore! I don’t need you protecting me all the time! Damn it, you’re driving me crazy!”

Frozen in momentary shock, Kylie stared at her son. “Since when do you curse at your mother like that?” she demanded. “Where did you learn that? From Shane?”

“Mom—”

“No, not another word. Give me your cell phone, then go straight to your room. You’re in time-out till I say so!”

“
Time-out!
See what I mean? You’re still treating me like a baby!” Standing, Hunter slammed his phone on the table, almost—but not quite—hard enough to break it. Then he turned and stormed off toward the stairs.

Fighting tears, Kylie slumped over the table. Her son was so young and vulnerable and trying so hard to be a man. She would do anything to protect him. But today wisdom had failed her. She’d wanted to keep him close, but she’d only pushed him away. Maybe she was the one who needed a time-out.

In a nervous gesture, her fingers twisted her gold wedding band. When Brad was alive, he’d spent far more time away than at home. She’d pretty much raised the children on her own, but his unseen presence had always been there, his quiet discipline a guidepost for them all. Now he was gone and their children were growing into adolescence, changing into emotional young strangers before her eyes. She’d hoped that a perfect Christmas would make up for having their lives uprooted. But something told her even that wouldn’t be enough—and this holiday was turning out to be one long string of disasters.

From the yard outside, she could hear the scrape of Shane’s shovel as he cleared the snow off the long driveway. Shane was part of her problem with Hunter, she reminded herself. Letting him know where she stood might be a step, at least, toward some kind of resolution.

Muriel’s quilted down coat hung on a rack by the door. Surely, Muriel wouldn’t mind if she borrowed it. Kylie lifted it off the hook and slipped it on. The sleeves were a couple of inches too short, but at least it would be warmer than her thin fleece jacket. Zipping up the front, Kylie stepped out onto the porch.