Christmas in Eternity Springs (20 page)

“Absolutely.” Jax stabbed a meatball off his son's plate and brought it toward his own mouth. “Sounds like an excellent idea to me.”

“Hey, Dad! I was saving that!”

“Snooze you lose, boyo.” Jax's eyes twinkled with pleasure as he looked at his son, and when he shifted his gaze toward Claire, they softened with a combination of gratitude and hope and approval that warmed her to her toes. “Miss Christmas's meatballs are spectacular.”

Claire schooled her expression into one of disapproval. “Don't worry, Nicholas. I believe there are two meatballs left in the sauce on the stove. You may have them both.”

“Score!” Nicholas chortled.

The rest of the evening passed in an easy, upbeat atmosphere that reminded Claire of the happy family of her childhood before Michelle got sick. When Jax went upstairs to read a chapter of
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows,
Claire knew a yearning that all but took her breath away.

She wanted this. She wanted a family.

She wanted to be part of
this
family.

Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. Hold your jingle bells right there, Miss Christmas.

Family wasn't on the table. They'd made that clear from the beginning. She'd been the one to take relationship
off
the table! Tables weren't even involved here. Just a bed. This was a mistletoe fling.

Although, come to think of it, there was no reason a table couldn't be involved. Jax seemed like the type who once he'd begun flinging, wouldn't care too much just where the mistletoe lay. So to speak.

Needing a distraction from her thoughts, Claire considered skipping the nightcap with Jax that had quickly become their habit and going up to bed herself. But that struck her as cowardly, so instead she fell back on another crutch. She took a box of brownie mix from the pantry and set about mixing them up.

She'd just slid the pan in the preheated oven when Jax entered the kitchen. “Brownies? You're making brownies? Better be careful, Claire. I'll sabotage the repairs to Baby Bear to keep you here.”

Because words that were totally unacceptable hovered on her tongue, Claire diverted by asking, “How are the repairs coming along?”

“I'm afraid we've ground to a halt until the electrician manages to find his way out to Three Bears. Every day I call and every day he gives me another excuse for why he can't make it out. I've done all I can do without a license. It's frustrating.”

“It's hunting season,” Claire explained. “Unfortunately, our plumber and our electrician are serious hunters, and as a result, jobs back up.”

“Oh … that explains a lot.” Jax lifted the bottle of Chianti they'd opened to have with their dinner and topped off Claire's glass and then his own. “I should have picked up on it. I'll work at Papa Bear in the meantime, but if Nicholas and I are wearing out our welcome…”

“Not at all,” she hastened to say. “I enjoy the company.”

It was true. She hadn't realized just how lonely she'd been until now.

He handed her the wine. “Claire … about the Christmas bedtime stories…”

“If you don't think we should—”

He interrupted. “No. It's brilliant. Especially beginning with the Bible story.”

“He's the reason for the Season.”

“And your plan is nonthreatening, and most important of all, it's something Nicholas wants to try. But if it doesn't work … if he's not ready … I don't want you to be disappointed.”

She sipped her wine and smiled. “Like I told Nicholas, no pressure.”

She had to repeat those words to herself Sunday evening as she waited for Nicholas to get ready for bed. She was surprisingly nervous. She wanted to help him so badly. And, she very badly didn't want to frighten him or cause him any grief.

When the mantel clock chimed eight
P.M.
, Jax set down the thriller he'd been reading since Nicholas went up to take his bath half an hour ago and stood. “That's our cue. Are you ready, Miss Christmas?”

No!
“I am.”

She picked up her Bible—her mother's worn and tattered one—and took the hand that Jax extended to her. Her mouth was dry as straw in a manger.

“I'm nervous,” Jax told her.

“I'm not,” she fibbed. “No pressure.”

Nicholas wore Seattle Seahawks pajamas, and he held the first volume of the Percy Jackson series in his lap. His blond hair was damp from his shower. He'd obviously neglected to comb it after toweling it dry since it stuck up all over his head. He sat a little stiffly in his bed, and behind the thick lenses of his glasses, his blue eyes were round and big as an owl's.

“Did you brush your teeth?” Jax asked.

“Yep.”

“Prove it.”

Nicholas opened his mouth, stuck out his tongue, and made an “ah” sound.

Jax nodded, then sauntered over to the dresser, where he picked up a small black comb and tossed it to his son. “Use it. Claire, you want to sit in the rocking chair?”

“Okay.”

As she took a seat in the chair at the foot of the bed, Jax nonchalantly slid onto the mattress beside his son and slung his arm around the boy's shoulder. “I'm ready. You ready, Hot Rod?”

The boy's knuckles went white as he tightened his grip on the book. “I'm ready.”

Claire cleared her throat and said, “Dr. Lori shared something Celeste shared with Mr. Chase not long ago. She said that courage is a muscle that is strengthened by use. You're getting to be a very strong young man, Nicholas.”

Then she opened her mother's Bible to the second chapter of Luke and read. “‘And it came to pass in those days there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be taxed.'”

When she closed the book a few minutes later, she was almost afraid to look at the troubled eight-year-old. Then he asked, “I thought there were camels in the story?”

Relief rolled over Claire in a wave. “That's Epiphany. It's in the Gospel of Matthew.” She hesitated a beat, then added, “We can read it tomorrow if you'd like.”

“Okay.” Nicholas handed the Percy Jackson book to his dad. “Your turn.”

Jax's smile was Star of Bethlehem bright.

 

Chapter Thirteen

It's nice to work in the sunshine.

—JAX

A week of good weather, available subcontractors, supply orders that arrived in a timely manner, and three not insignificant checks for progress on projects he'd been hired to complete had put a spring in Jax's steps on Friday morning. The fact that Claire and Nicholas had plowed through
How the Grinch Stole Christmas!, The Polar Express,
“'Twas the Night Before Christmas,” and “The Gift of the Magi” so far this week didn't hurt his mood any.

Neither did the fact that he had a date tonight.

While varnish dried on the wood floor at Baby Bear and the framing crew tackled Papa Bear, Jax drove over to the Callahan compound on Hummingbird Lake. He went to work installing reclaimed wood on the walls of the dance hall to the notes of Texas country music loaded into the portable sound system that sat on what would be the stage once the building was finished. The physical work was just what he needed, and he was whistling along to Pat Green's “Carry On” when the music abruptly switched off. “Buy you a beer, Lancaster?”

Jax turned toward the speaker. Brick Callahan looked like hell. “You okay, man?”

“Yeah.”

His expression said otherwise. Jax arched a brow and waited.

Brick scowled at him and said, “Okay, actually, my day has sucked. Seriously sucked. It's Friday afternoon. You're not on any hard deadline here. Clock out early. Come have a beer with me.”

Jax checked his watch. “I have an hour and ten minutes before I need to pick up Nicholas from school. You want to go to Murphy's?”

“Nah. I'll raid my dad's refrigerator. Meet me down at the pier.”

“Okay.”

Jax pulled the tools from his tool belt, returned them to his toolbox, and stowed it in the bed of his truck. Then he strolled down to the pier that stretched out into Hummingbird Lake. He heard the bang of a screen door, and he glanced behind him to see Brick Callahan carrying a small cooler on a strap over one shoulder and a tackle box. In his opposite hand, he carried two fishing poles.

He didn't say anything when he joined Jax at the end of the pier, simply handed him one of the poles, then set down the cooler and fished out a couple of microbrews.

Jax understood the peace that could be found in silence, so he didn't press the issue. The men fished and drank their beer for a good ten minutes before Brick said, “Women.”

Aha. So that's what this is about.

“I hear you, brother.”

“Scuttlebutt in town says you got divorced before your boy's mother died. Is that true?”

“Yep.”

“Wasn't it hard to do that with your kid?”

“It wasn't my preference.” Jax grimaced as he recalled those soul-crushing days and his despair when he realized his efforts to retain shared custody were sunk. “Not my choice.”

“Funny how often it's not our choice, isn't it?” The bitterness in Brick's voice said as much as his words did.

Jax rarely discussed his marriage, but something told him Brick needed to know he wasn't alone. “She left me for another guy.”

“Well, that sucks rocks.”

“My ego certainly took a hit.” He waited a beat, then asked, “You have a kid, Callahan?”

“Me? No.” He shook his head. “My ex does.”

“You're divorced, too?”

“Nah. I was engaged, but we never made it to the altar. Money got in the way.”

“Now, that's something I understand.”

“Oh, yeah?”

Jax nodded. “Money caused a lot of our problems. My wife's family was loaded. I didn't realize going into the marriage how much I would resent her going to her daddy for everything she wanted.” For her part, Lara hadn't realized how much she'd hate being a navy wife.

“See … what is it about women and money? My ex wanted me to take anything and everything my grandfather offered. The man's favorite pastime is giving stuff to his grandkids. But I didn't grow up wealthy. I was adopted as a baby, and my mom and pop are salt-of-the-earth, middle-class folks. Hell, I didn't meet my dad until I was ready to go off to college. He and my uncles are all hardworking men who've built their businesses and earned everything they have with their own two hands. That's what I wanted. She couldn't see it. We had a big fight about it and she decided the grass—not to mention the cash—was greener with a banker. Damned if she didn't marry him. Have a baby with him.”

“You still love her.” Despite the fact that the woman sounded like a gold digger.

Brick finished his beer and tossed the empty into the cooler. “Want another?”

“I'm good.”

He reached for another beer, twisted off the cap, then took a long sip. Then he set down his beer and picked his fishing pole back up. Reeling in the line, he said, “I loved her for a long time. Maybe a part of me does still love her, but I don't like her very much. She calls me. Called me again just this morning. She says she's leaving her husband. The old ‘marry in haste, repent at leisure' thing. She wants me to take her back.”

This time Jax was the one who took a long sip of his beer, more to fill his mouth with something other than advice than because he was thirsty. The man hadn't asked. He wouldn't offer. Guys didn't do that. “What did you tell her?”

“No. I told her no.” Brick gave his fishing pole a hard yank, and cranked the reel with excess enthusiasm. “It just about killed me, but I told her no.”

Good.

Brick changed his bait and cast his line once again. “Sure would like to catch some fish. My mouth has a hankering for trout tonight for dinner.”

“It does sound good,” Jax agreed.

After a few moments of silent fishing, Brick declared, “I'm not going to be her crutch. I'm not going to be her excuse. Even if her marriage really is over and it has nothing to do with me, the things that got in our way are still there. Some things can't be fixed. Some things don't change. My attitude toward money hasn't changed. Did yours? Did the breakup with your ex change how you felt about money?”

“No. Not at all. If anything, I think it solidified my position. I don't care how gorgeous she is, I'm not ever getting involved with a wealthy woman again. Money makes life easier, but it doesn't necessarily make life happier. My boy is happier now than he ever was in Seattle. I screwed up when I didn't listen to my instincts. I'm not doing that again.”

“You're telling me I should listen to my instincts.”

“I'm not offering any advice here, Callahan. You asked a question and I answered it.”

“Yeah … yeah … yeah. The thing is … I know that telling her no was the right thing to do. I haven't changed. My grandfather is my business partner. We're in it fifty-fifty. He provided the stake, but I'm building sweat equity. I'm not going back to the Bank of Branch anytime things get a little tight. I'm scraping by with Stardance right now, but that's okay. I'm pouring almost everything I make back into the business. I think it will succeed. I think I'm building something I'll be proud of someday. Hell, I'm already proud of it. You're a guy. You can understand that, right?”

“You don't have to be a guy to understand that, Callahan. The right woman will understand.”

Claire understands why I've strapped on a tool belt rather than send out my resume to corporations who have a use for nuclear engineers.

“The right woman,” Brick repeated. “I'm afraid that in order to make room for her, I gotta get the wrong woman out of my head first. My ex has really messed with my mind.”