Read A Christmas to Believe In Online
Authors: Claire Ashgrove
proposal. He had no right to snap. But this whole situation
pained him too much to stop the gut-reaction.
Every last damn thing he cared about was about to slip
through his fingers. Jesse included. The idea of leaving her
knifed such fierce pain into his heart at times he thought it
might stop. And yet, he could do nothing to stop this roller
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coaster ride. Even if he sold everything and returned to
Missouri, he had no job. Could find little gainful employment
with a degree in Equine Science. At best he might sign on
with Pfizer and do research. But the racetrack had closed its
doors, and he had no desire to serve as a veterinary assistant
at a pittance of an hourly rate. At least in Kentucky, if he
couldn't hold onto his farm, opportunities within the industry
abounded. He could manage someone else's breeding
program. Oversee a large-scale racing cooperative.
Any chance he might have of financial independence lay in
the bluegrass state. If he got on his feet, he could work at a
permanent arrangement with Jesse. But not until then. Not
until he could fulfill the role of partner and provider.
As his father had done.
The slam of a car door dragged him out of his thoughts. He
needed to apologize to Jesse. Then, he needed to go home.
Cool off. Think through his options before he discussed this
with her again. And he would—she wouldn't let an idea go
once she set her teeth into it. If he couldn't find a way to
explain why he couldn't accept her help, she'd bring the
subject up until she beat all the fight out of him.
He hunched over and collected a sample of his mare's
milk. She swished her tail, munched on her morning ration of
grain as he ran the redundant test. When the strip filled with
vibrant color, he compared the results. The same as
yesterday. A sliver of relief washed through him. He still had
hope in the foal. Everything wasn't a total loss yet.
Clint fished a peppermint disk out of his pocket and fed it
to Angel. "Good girl. You're doing great. Now just keep
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hanging in there. We'll be home in four days. At least give me
that much, Angel. Foal in Kentucky so we can enter that baby
in the incentives." As he pulled her blanket back over her
withers, he glanced up at the rafters. "Give me that much,
please. That's all I ask."
He gathered his things, tucked them into his corner, and
hunkered down into his coat to brave the snow. What had
begun as a dusting last night, had filled their tracks while
they slept. Now, the flakes fell in a thick white carpet, heavy
and wet. Perfect snowball weather if he'd been in a different
mood.
Trudging through the snow, he ordered the blackness out
of his heart. He wouldn't leave on this dark note. Last night
had been too incredible to let a disagreement spoil
everything. As he approached the door, muffled shouts
filtered out. He paused, his already present frown deepening.
Ethan's voice thundered through the half-inch opening.
"You lied to me! You fucking lied to me!"
Great. Just what Jesse needed to top off this morning. Now
she suffered her son's temper as well as his. Clint ground his
teeth together and let himself inside. Tension crackled
through the air, thick and full of explosive energy. Ethan
stood at the bottom of the stairs, his face red with fury. Jesse
clutched the back of the nearby chair, her knuckles white.
"So I'm supposed to live by your rules, Ethan?" she
snapped. "You weren't here. What I do on my own time is my
business. If I want to have company over, I will. This is my
house!"
"
Your
house? You said it was
ours
!"
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Clint quietly picked up his shoes. His temper lit at the
boy's disrespect, but he clamped his teeth into his tongue. If
he jumped into the middle of this, things would only get
worse. The best thing he could do was silently disappear. Let
Jesse work things out with her son. Offer her support when
she needed a shoulder.
"Ethan," Jesse's voice cracked as she tried to out shout
him. "It is our house, but you don't get to make the rules. I
have a life, too."
"You don't give a damn about how I feel, Jesse—you're no
better than anyone else! Everything you say's a fucking lie!"
"I haven't lied to you. Where do you come up with that?"
The heartbreak in Jesse's tear-moistened eyes ripped Clint
in half. He forced himself to look away. Ordered his tongue to
stay silent. But every accusation that Ethan carelessly flung
made it increasingly difficult to obey.
"Just friends! You said you were just friends. Friends don't
kiss. Friends don't fuck!"
At that, Clint's control snapped in two. Sweater in one
hand, he wheeled on Ethan. One purposeful stride put him
between the pair, and he leveled the boy with a deadly glare.
"Look. You can hate me all you want, Ethan. Call me every
name in the book—believe me, son, I've heard them all. I can
probably teach you a few. But you
will not
speak to her that
way. Got it?"
For an instant, shock widened Ethan's eyes. But surprise
gave way to fury, and his scowl darkened. Suspended
seconds passed as Ethan tried to stare him down. Then, he
curled a fist at his side and exploded, "Fuck you!"
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Clint kept his gaze on the boy as he stormed up the stairs.
When the door slammed shut overhead, he turned to go to
Jesse. Before he made it, she crumpled behind the chair.
"Shit," he mumbled.
Hurrying to the backside, he found her hugging her knees,
silent tears rolling down her cheeks. He knelt at her side,
gathered her close. He guided her head to his shoulder and
rocked her gently as sobs rolled through her body. "Shh,
sweetheart," he murmured as he stroked her long hair.
"Shh."
"I'm sorry. The weather..." A strangled cry choked her,
and she broke down again.
Clint didn't know how long they sat there. But he held her
until the tears faded, until her hiccups passed. When her
breathing steadied into a pattern interrupted by intermittent
spasms, he took her by the arms and pushed her away to
gaze into her glistening eyes. He ached to tell her how much
he loved her; that he couldn't stand by and let Ethan rip her
to pieces. Instead, he brushed the wetness from her cheeks
with his thumbs and cupped her face in his palms. His gaze
searched hers. "I'm so sorry," he whispered.
With a shake of her head, she swiped at her eyes. "He
came home early because of the weather. Found your shoes
and sweater, our dishes from last night. He snapped."
Moisture welled within her eyes again, and Clint leaned
forward to kiss it away. The taste of salt met his lips, a flavor
that only made her heartache cut more deeply. He dragged
his mouth down her cheeks, settled over hers. As he kissed
her softly, the phone in the kitchen let out an impatient peal.
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Jesse eased out of his embrace and wobbled to the phone.
"Hello?"
While he watched, Jesse's features went from sorrowful to
ashen. Her eyes widened like saucers, her eyebrows lifted to
her hair. She blinked twice, answered some unheard remark
with a sharp nod. "Of course, Alex. Yes, I'll tell him. We'll be
there shortly."
Alex? Clint furrowed his brow. What could Alex possibly be
calling about? His chest tightened at the possibilities. His
mother? His nieces? Was someone hurt? Standing, he
frowned at Jesse.
She slapped the receiver into the cradle, stared at it for
several agonizing heartbeats.
"What is it?" Clint insisted.
"The girls." She lifted her gaze to his. "Your nieces are
missing. Alex needs help looking for them."
Clint glanced at the stairs. "Should we..."
Jesse shook her head. "When he's like this, there's no use.
He'll hide for hours."
He yanked his sweater over his head and stretched his
hand out for hers. "Come on then. I'll drive."
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Clint navigated streets, that had turned treacherous
overnight, with the ease of someone who'd been on the road
a lifetime. Jesse watched his hands, took in the tightness of
his knuckles, and sat in silence. Silence that had blanketed
them the moment they left her house. Her emotions were too
tossed up to sift through, her heart too shredded to try.
Clint's explosion, Ethan's tirade, and now the girls. Missing
in what the radio called a blizzard. White-out conditions they
had no business traveling through. Guilt plagued her for
leaving Ethan home alone after such a disastrous fight. And
yet, she couldn't turn her back on Alex. Besides, sitting at
home would have resulted in one of two things—either more
fighting or damning silence. A lack of sound totally unlike the
one that engulfed her now.
This one held acceptance. Beneath all the uncomfortable
not knowing what to say, no condemnation waited. Clint
didn't hate her, didn't despise the decisions she'd made. Yet,
she couldn't decide whether he was still angry with her or not.
His expression didn't hint at animosity. But then again,
driving to town took all his concentration.
Add in his worry for Alex's children, and the lack of
conversation made sense. Not that she wanted words.
Everything inside her was too clogged up to try.
All she wanted was to go back to this morning and not roll
out of bed. If she'd stayed there, a good portion of today
wouldn't have happened. She wouldn't have escaped Ethan's
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fury, but the chasm between her and Clint wouldn't have
opened.
He skidded around a corner, and his mouth tightened.
Even in his four-wheel drive pickup, he had difficulty
straightening out the nose. The bed pulled sideways, bringing
them precariously close to a row of parked cars. But as he let
off the gas, the truck slowed, and their trajectory evened out.
On a heavy exhale, he nosed the truck into an open space in
front of Zoe's shop and opened the door. "I'll be right back.
Stay here where it's warm."
She huddled into her coat to block the chill that swept in
and nodded. He vanished into the thick snowfall, and Jesse
stared out the window unseeing. The windshield wipers
droned a monotonous rhythm as she replayed the horrifying
argument with Ethan again.
He hadn't noticed the forgotten sweater on the couch until
he'd stumbled over Clint's loafers. The trip brought him
around in slow motion. His gaze swept the room, stopping on
each piece of evidence from the night before that she hadn't
yet picked up. Her nearby shoes, the half-empty bottle of
wine, the candle nubs, the desert dishes still on the table.
Then, those knowing eyes settled on her, and they'd flashed
with betrayal.
Before she could utter a word, he unleashed on her.
Jesse cringed as his accusations boomed in her head. Had
she lied to him? She certainly hadn't meant to. When she'd
said Clint and she were just friends, she'd meant it. She'd
never imagined things would lead to this—that Ethan would
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come home after she'd spent the night in Clint's arms. After
she'd given herself in so many ways it made her blush.
She'd certainly never fathomed Ethan would turn on her
with such rage. They hadn't battled with that kind of venom
since his first month with her. Back then, he fought her
attempts to get close. The same way he battled Clint's
attempt to fit into their lives.
Her heart hurt all over with the realization she'd wounded
Ethan even though she'd tried to do just the opposite. She'd
chosen a night he wouldn't be home to deliberately keep from
shoving her affair under his nose. What seemed like such a
grand plan now seemed like a disaster in the making.
Yet, she could think of no other way to handle it. If she'd
invited Clint to stay when Ethan was home, the scene would
have been doubly horrendous.
The door opened. Clint reached inside to shut the engine
off. He ducked his head in, nodded it at her door. "We have to
hoof it. Alex is looking in the stores here. Mom and Zoe are
staying in the shop in case they come back. Heath's down at
the old train depot where they've got some reindeer display.
Zoe asked us to look over at the park where she took them to
build snowmen earlier."
Jesse pulled her hat down over her ears and tugged her