Christmas At Cade Ranch

“I run the place, and I’m part owner with my brothers and sister.”

“Joy invited me. I’m her guest.”

“And how did that happen?” He lifted one of his thick, slanted eyebrows.

“I lost my wallet. Otherwise we’d be in Oregon.”

“You didn’t plan on meeting the rest of us? Even for your son’s sake?” Suspicion edged his voice.

“No. It’s just that I...we didn’t have time.”

“Right. The tickets to Portland.” The way he drew out the city’s name made it sound like a fictitious place, a destination she’d fabricated. “Who do you know there?”

“That’s none of your business,” she murmured through rigid lips. The wind picked up and fluttered strands of hair in her face. She shoved them behind her ears.

“It is, if it involves a relation of mine.”

“Javi’s your nephew,” she gasped. So now he didn’t believe Javi was Jesse’s son? Fury corroded her tongue. She hated feeling backed into a corner. Trapped like she had been during her childhood.

“I only have your word for it.” His sober voice descended on her, as heavy as a gavel.

“And his birth certificate.”

“And where’s that?”

“My wallet.”

“The one that’s missing...” He cocked his head, studying her.

“I’m leaving.”

He held out a hand. “You misunderstand me.” Something about the plea in his voice halted her feet. She’d heard it before, in her own head, that same desire for someone to understand her. “I don’t know you, where you come from or who your people are. Since Jesse’s murder, I don’t trust strangers.”

Her eyes met his, and she gnawed on her lower lip, thinking fast. She wasn’t about to talk about who her people were. Bringing up her father was another trigger, and she wouldn’t compound this tense moment by invoking his name. “I’m just passing through,” she said, knowing it sounded weak. But it was the best she could do.

He nodded slowly, his dark eyes shiny and a touch sad. The moon sank beneath a scuttle of clouds and the world seemed to collapse in on itself. A black hole.

“I’d like your promise to be on the Portland bus tomorrow. If you delay, Ma will get attached. She looks strong, but she’s fragile, especially this time of year.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be gone tomorrow. I’m definitely not staying for the holidays.”

Though how she wished, just once, that she could give Javi a real Christmas.

“Her heart’s been broken too many times by...”

“Jesse,” she murmured.

When James averted his face, the firm cut of his jaw drew her eye. A day’s worth of dark stubble shaded it, giving him a dangerous edge, yet she also sensed a profound loneliness in him that echoed her own. There was nothing worse than feeling alone in crowds of people. He’d held himself back during the boisterous family dinner, his vigilant eyes rarely straying from his mother. He wanted to protect her, and Sofia admired his determination, especially since she was equally resolute in shielding her son.

Wind chimes jangled from a corner of the porch, their silvery notes shivering on the breeze. “Jesse caused Ma a lot of pain. Still does.”

“You love your mother a lot.”

“She’s the greatest person I know.”

Sofia ached at his simple, heartfelt declaration. All her life she’d wished for a mother to love and knew she’d have been just as protective and loyal as James. “Jesse’s addiction must have been hard on her.”

He turned and his dark eyes glimmered in the gloom. “Were you an addict, too?”

“Jesse and I got clean together.”

And when he relapsed, you kicked him out. You never gave him the support you should have.

“How long have you been sober?”

“Six years.” Did he think her a closet junkie bent on taking advantage of his family?

Her throat tightened at his possible bad opinion, though why it mattered, she hadn’t a clue. Nearly everyone she’d ever met assumed the worst, so why would James be different?

Maybe the reason stemmed from her long-held wish for Javi to be a part of Cade Ranch, a world she never got to experience: one full of strong values and family, where he’d be safe and secure—even if she slipped again. Every night, she told him Rocky Mountain cowboys’ bedtime stories, describing legendary men to make him proud of his dad.

And now James’s suspicious manner made her want to flee. He reminded her of who she was, not who she wanted to become.

“No relapses?” he pressed.

“Nope.” She forced a pained smile and spoke through her clenched teeth. “See. Not rotting. I’m not a meth head.”

“What about your arms?”

She extended one, and he slid her sleeve up over her elbow to peer at her track lines, scars that disfigured her, showed the world the ugliness that lurked within.

A shivery tremble began in her lower stomach as his calloused fingers grazed her marks. His gaze lifted and locked with hers. Instead of the disgust she expected, his face fell. A crazy urge to wrap her arms around him and hold him up seized her.

“Seen enough?” Her voice broke.

When he didn’t answer, she shoved up the other sleeve and extended the scarred underside of her elbow.

“Enough.” He lifted his hands, then dropped them, backing away, looking slightly stunned.

“They’re not fresh,” she insisted, shaking inside.

His chest rose and fell with the force of his sigh. “But you were with Jesse when he relapsed.”

“Yes,” she answered fast, relieved to get past this awkward moment of physical awareness.

“Were you friends with his dealer?”

A bitter laugh escaped her as she pictured her neighborhood’s thugs. “Hardly.”