“Yes, Grandma, it’s Christmas. The best time of year. You remember that year when we had the snow?”
She nodded, and her lips quivered. “It wasn’t really snow, Nicky, just a dusting.”
“I made a snowman.”
“It was three inches tall.”
“It was still a snowman. Size is not that important, Grandma.”
She laughed and squeezed his hand. “I love you, boy, you know that?”
“Yes, ma’am, I do,” Matt said; then he launched into one of Nick’s favorite Christmas stories that involved a dog named Gonzo and an apple pie that disappeared when no one was looking.
Ruth enjoyed that story, and the five other Christmas stories Matt told her as if they belonged to him.
At some point, just as Ruth was beginning to fade off into sleep, he became aware of someone behind him. He turned and found Annie and Miriam standing in the doorway of the room. He had no idea how long they had been there listening. Both of them had tears in their eyes.
“So,” Miriam whispered, “you going to give her that present or not?”
Matt realized that he hadn’t said a word about Nick’s present. It still rested on his lap.
Suddenly the present seemed kind of stupid. Ruth didn’t need or want a present like this. All Ruth wanted for Christmas was Nick. And in a way Nick lived on, in the stories he’d told when the bullets had been flying or the boredom had set in. Matt knew them all by heart.
He couldn’t bear to look at Annie or Miriam because his own eyes were overflowing with the tears he’d been holding back for a long, long time.
Annie strode into the room, bent over, and put her arms around his shoulders. Her hair spilled over him like a veil. “You’re staying, of course,” she murmured in his ear. “I couldn’t imagine Christmas without you.”
“But-”
“But nothing. You aren’t Nick. I know that even if Ruth doesn’t. You’re kinder than Nick ever was. And you came home, when all Nick ever wanted was to wander the world. He may have told great stories, Matt, but he left Ruth alone. He walked away from me and everyone he loved in Last Chance. He never came back to visit, even when he wasn’t on deployment. Instead, every year, he sent Ruth a Christmas present, as if that were enough. They came like clockwork. She always put them in the charity box. She never even unwrapped them.”
“You knew this all along and you didn’t tell me?”
“We all knew it. Why do you think I asked you about your reasons for coming? Why do you think Nita questioned your motives last night? I guess once you explained yourself everyone understood that you’d come here looking for something Nick had thrown away without really looking back. No one wanted to dash your illusions. Not after what you’d been through.”
“And,” Miriam said, “it sure does look like Nick’s last present was maybe the best one he ever sent home.”
Matt closed his eyes and leaned in to Annie. Miriam was wrong. If there had been a gift given this Christmas, it had been what Annie had given him the last few days-a Christmas he would never forget.
And a warm, welcoming place to come home to.
O Little Town of Bramble by
Chapter One
The folks of Bramble, Texas, believed in doing things up big. And the holidays were no exception. Every building along Main Street was decorated with garland, balls, and bows. A giant, ornament-filled Douglas fir stood in front of the town hall, fake poinsettias spouted from storefront flower boxes, and ropes of evergreen encircled each light post.
Having lived in Bramble for all of his life, the excess was nothing new to Ethan Miller. In fact, he had to admit he liked the town all spiffed up. It put him more in the mood for Christmas-which was only a day away.
As Ethan ambled along the street, he looked up at the blue west Texas skies. It was clear now, but the weather was about to change. He could feel it in his bones.
“Nice ass.”
The words caused Ethan to stop so fast that Buckwheat ran into him from behind. And being run into by a four-hundred-pound donkey could bring even a big man down in a hurry. One knee hit the cement, and he had to grab on to the back of the bench in front of Sutter’s Pharmacy to keep from landing on his face. Old Moses Tate, who was sleeping on the bench, didn’t even break-snore. Of course, without his hearing aids, the man was as deaf as a stone.
With pain shooting up his thigh, Ethan turned to get after Buckwheat for tailgating when his gaze got snagged by the woman who had just spoken. Words dried up in his mouth. Of course, words always dried up in Ethan’s mouth when he was around a woman he found attractive. And this woman he found much more than attractive. She was downright breathtaking.
Hair as thick and black as a bay horse’s tail fell around a face with high cheekbones, a button nose, and lips painted the pink of the sky right before sunrise. She wore big movie-star sunglasses that concealed her eyes and city clothes that would be useless on a farm-but were damned nice to look at. A long, red sweater hugged breasts the size of plump September peaches and curved down over slim hips that would sit real pretty in a saddle. Of course, the painted-on jeans and knee-high boots with their tall, skinny heels wouldn’t work for riding.
Leastways, not horses.
A tingling of sexual awareness settled in Ethan’s stomach. But it wasn’t the first time he’d ignored the feeling, and it wouldn’t be the last. Farm life left little time for giving in to one’s desires.
“Uhh… excuse me, ma’am?” The slow, awkward words that came out of his mouth had his face heating, and his embarrassment only grew when her pretty lips tipped up in a soft smile.
She moved away from the pharmacy window with its display of a tiny tinsel Christmas tree surrounded by brightly wrapped packages and came to stand directly in front of him. Seeing as Ethan was still kneeling, it brought those sweet peaches mere inches from his mouth. And there was no ignoring the heat that slammed into him much harder than Buckwheat.
“Are you plannin’ on makin’ a declaration, Ethan?” she said. “Or are you just takin’ a mornin’ prayer break?”
The country twang that had been missing when she’d commented on his ass was now thick and familiar. His head came up, and he squinted at her mouth, trying to visualize it without paint. But it wasn’t until she reached up and removed the sunglasses that he recognized the face. Eyes the deep blue of Morning Glories stared back at him, and Ethan’s voice rang out as clear as one of Hope Scrogg’s hog calls.
“Sam?” With only a small cringe, he climbed to his feet and within two steps had the woman in his arms. He swung her around once before he realized what he was doing. Then he quickly set her back on her feet and stepped away, more than a little embarrassed by his uncharacteristic behavior. If it had been any other woman, he would’ve been stammering his apologies like a bashful idiot.
But this was Sam.
He grinned back at her, not quite believing his eyes. “Would you look at you? I thought you’d gone and left Bramble for good.”
“I thought so too,” she said rather breathlessly. Her gaze wandered over his face as if taking in all the changes. He figured there had to be plenty. The last couple years had been hard-what with his daddy’s accident and the majority of the farm work falling to him. To a young woman five years his junior, he must look as old and weathered as a leather harness left out in the sun.
While she, on the other hand, looked as fresh as a new spring daffodil. She even smelled like flowers. He filled his lungs with the subtle, sweet scent, realizing too late the effect it would have on a man who’d hadn’t been this close to a woman, other than his mama, in a while. Suddenly, he felt like he had the time he’d gotten sandwiched between a couple linebackers during a high school football game-kinda dazed and loopy.
