Cowboy Under the Mistletoe (18 page)

Charity’s hand went to her mouth. “Chet said Jake was teaching you, that he helped you on.”

“But that’s not true!” As if he realized he’d said too much, Ryan stopped talking and slid deeper into the bed, his eyes squeezed shut.

A silent moment of realization hummed on the hospital-scented air before Quinn ground out, “Get Chet in here. Now.”

“Whoa, whoa, this is not the place.” Dawson hitched his chin toward the door. “Let’s take this conversation outside.”

Mom and Charity stayed behind but the rest filed out into the hall to talk to Chet. When he heard the news that Ryan would be all right, tears formed in his eyes.

“Want to tell us what really happened out there today, Chet?” Brady asked gently as he went down on one knee beside the boy’s chair. “Ryan says Jake warned you away from the bulls.”

Chet hung his head. “Yeah. He did.”

“Chet!” The boy’s mother paled.

Allison put a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “Tell us the truth, Chet. It’s wrong to blame someone else. What happened?”

In a mumble with his chin low on his chest, Chet told the story of sneaking off to play rodeo cowboy. “Ryan went first, and then he fell and he couldn’t get up and—” his lips trembled “—Jake saw us. He yelled for us to get away. And when Ryan fell, Jake ran inside the pen. He threw himself in front of the bull so it wouldn’t horn Ryan anymore. Jake got knocked down. I thought for a minute he was dead, too.” Two tears rolled down his cheeks and dripped on his jeans. “I thought they were both dead, but Jake got up and made the bull chase him. He was trying to save Ryan. Ryan was bleeding and—”

Brady patted Chet’s knee. “I think we understand now. You don’t have to say any more.”

For a moment, quiet reigned in the small waiting area, as they each absorbed the news. Jake, the Jake they despised, had saved Ryan’s life.

Allison’s pulse hammered against her temples. Chet had lied. And the Buchanons had accepted the lie as easily as breathing because it implicated Jake.

“Is that why the two of you were brawling like Neanderthals in the waiting room? Because Chet told a lie to keep himself out of trouble?” She pointed a finger around the box of Buchanons, her voice rising. “And you
all
believed a little boy over a grown man? The man who saved Ryan’s life!”

“Now, Allison,” Jayla said. “This is no place for drama. Nobody likes Jake anyway.”

The revelation was the final straw. She couldn’t bear it any longer. Allison burst into tears.

“Whoa. Wait. Don’t do that.” Quinn patted her shoulder and looked completely out of his element. “Somebody make her stop. Allison doesn’t cry.”

“You. You mean-spirited, unforgiving cretins.” She glared at the other stunned faces. “All of you. You claim to be Christians, but you don’t have an ounce of forgiveness in your souls. You want grace for yourselves but you refuse to extend it to a man who’s done everything he can to make up for hurting Quinn. You stubbornly refuse to believe anything good about him, and he’s a good man. A man I love. And he loves me. So much that he left town rather than come between me and my family. What does that tell you about yourselves and him? Huh? Answer me that?”

She was so upset, she didn’t quite comprehend all the words streaming from her mouth. The Jake she knew tumbled out and suddenly she didn’t care about her humiliation or the secret she’d kept for years.

“I never told you because I was afraid. You had enough on your plate, according to Jake. You didn’t need anything else to worry about. But he was there for me the night a boy tried to rape me.”

Brady leaped to his feet. “Who?”

“Doesn’t matter now, and I won’t ever tell you. The point is Jake stopped him. He fought for me and got a busted nose for his efforts. And like the gentleman he is, he carried me to his truck and took care of me. Not once did he ever criticize me or make me feel less than a good person because I’d been stupid enough to go off alone with...that boy.”

Brady’s face reflected that of his brothers in a mix of horror and shock. “We never knew. How could we not know?”

“I didn’t want you to know. I was afraid of what you might do, of the trouble you might get into if you knew. But Jake Hamilton is not the villain you’ve made him out to be. He made a horrible mistake nine years ago, but he’s made up for it a thousand times over. First with me that awful night on the river. Today with Ryan.”

When she finished, the group was as silent as an empty church. Shocked faces stared back at her, some ashamed, others suddenly aware of their collective misjudgment.

“Wow, sis,” Sawyer said. “You’re something when you’re all fired up.”

“Jake thinks I’m something all the time.” But now, she was nothing but drained dry. “I never meant to tell you, but I’m so tired of Jake being the bad guy.”

Dawson’s face was a picture of remorse. “When Quinn was injured at Jake’s hand, all of us, but especially Quinn lost something we valued greatly. Maybe too much. In our pain and loss, we forgot what Jesus taught about forgiveness.”

“We didn’t forget,” Brady said. “We ignored it.”

“We hurt, so we hit back. It didn’t seem like such a big sin. To despise one person who’d caused us grief. But I see now, we not only hurt Jake, we hurt our little sister. We hurt ourselves.”

Quinn massaged his right biceps, voice distant and thoughtful. “I’ve hated Jake Hamilton for so long, I forgot what a good friend he used to be.”

“He was. He still is. He loves all of you.” Allison sniffed, wiping at her eyes with her sweater sleeve. “Do you know what he said to me, Quinn? He said you had a right to hit him all you wanted. He would let you. You could pound him into the earth and he wouldn’t fight back.”

“Ah, man.” Quinn rubbed a hand over his eyes. “You all know Jake wasn’t the only one drinking beer that day. But we let him take all the blame.”

“Yeah.” A chorus of agreement passed between the brothers.

Quinn touched Allison’s shoulder. “You really love the guy, little sis?”

Her lips began to tremble. “With all my heart.”

“I think I speak for everyone when I say, go get him. We need to have a heart-to-heart. This time without threats.”

A glance at the other faces confirmed Quinn’s statement, but Allison shook her head. “I can’t. He’s gone.” The tears flooded in again. She swallowed, the knot thick in her throat. “And even if he was still in Gabriel’s Crossing, he’d never believe the Buchanon brothers would forgive him.”

“Gone doesn’t mean anything these days. The roads run in every direction. Where is he?”

“Fort Worth. The rodeo. He needed to make some money.”

Quinn glanced at Brady. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

“It’s a long drive.”

“Then we better get started.”

* * *

Behind the chutes, Jake leaned against the far wall, dejected. He’d lasted less than two seconds before his side gave out and the Badlands bull slammed him to the ground. He shouldn’t have tried to ride after everything that happened today. His head wasn’t in it.

Now his wallet was thinner than ever, but the sale of the bulls would pay off Granny Pat’s house and tide him over until he could find a regular job.

“Tough break, Hamilton,” another cowboy called as he passed by.

“Yeah.” He rubbed a tired hand down his face. Might as well head for the truck. The cab would be his bed for the night and he was bone weary and sorer than he wanted to be. He’d laid off too long.

The trouble was his heart wasn’t in bull riding anymore either.

He missed Allison. He missed Granny Pat. He missed his friends, his bulls, his hometown. Not everyone there hated him.

He ambled back to the locker room to collect his gear, thinking as he went.

Granny Pat’s words kept coming back to him. Did she really think he was running away like his mother had?

Praying in his heart for guidance, he took his belongings from a locker, slammed the metal door and started back out into corridor.

He could move his trailer back to Gabriel’s Crossing. Or maybe sell it and move in with his grandma. The paper mill might hire him. He wasn’t afraid of hard work and in a few years he could rebuild his herd.

Nah, none of that made sense. The problems would still be there.

So would Allison.

He wasn’t sure if he could keep going without her. The temptation to bring her along had ripped through him like a chain saw.

Jake chuffed. Or maybe that was the bruise on his side.

With his navy blue duffel bag over one shoulder, he headed down the corridor toward the exit. Cowboys passed, nodded or spoke. The smell of the arena and animals drifted to him, as natural as sunrise.

Working in a factory wouldn’t be easy. He was an outdoor man. But he’d do whatever necessary to get by.

As he approached the perpendicular hallway, four men rounded the corner. His stomach lurched. Stride for stride like old west gunslingers, the Buchanon brothers came toward him in a wall of muscle and mad. Jake stopped in his tracks. Was Ryan—?

Please no. Let the boy be all right.

But why else would the Buchanons be here?

Wary, he dusted a hand down his chaps and prepared for the news and the inevitable confrontation. He was too sore and heartsick to fight with the Buchanons tonight.

As the men came closer, their big bodies filling the corridor from side to side, he asked, “Is Ryan all right?”

Quinn spoke first. “He’ll be fine. A concussion. And a confession.”

Jake briefly closed his eyes. “Thank God.” When he opened them again, he noticed something he’d missed before. The expressions on the Buchanon boys’ faces. Not anger, but something else. “You came all this way to tell me?”

Quinn shook his head. “Partly, but we mostly came with an olive branch.”

“An apology,” Brady said when Jake stared at them, dumbfounded.

“I don’t understand. You don’t owe me an apology. I’m the one—” He bit down on his back jaw, felt the pain of Quinn’s punch, the pain he deserved.

“We were wrong, Jake. We’ve been wrong for a long time but we want to make things right.”

Jake couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You do?”

“Chet told us the truth about today, and Allison told us some other things.” Brady clapped Jake on the shoulder. “Thank you for taking care of our sister.”

“I love her. I’d do anything for her.” The words came out on their own, but they were true. If the Buchanons took offense, so be it.

“Even walk away?”

“I already did.”

The four brothers exchanged glances.

Brady spoke up. “Well, we kind of took offense to that. You running off on our little sister. Her crying. Right here at Christmas. We thought you wanted to make her happy.”

“I do. She’ll move on, find someone good enough for her.”

“I think she already has.”

“We brought you an early Christmas present, Jake. Don’t mess it up this time.”

Bewildered, his heart hammering like a jackhammer, he watched as the wall of men separated and there stood his love.

“Allison.” Before he could finish the thought, she launched across the small space like a linebacker after the sack, and into Jake’s arms.

His duffel and bull rope fell with a thud as he caught her, holding on for dear life, hardly able to believe this was happening. Afraid that any minute, he’d awaken and discover he was dreaming.

But then Quinn spoke one final time and set him free to love.

“Go on, brother, kiss her. But wait until I turn my back. I don’t want to have to hit you again.”

Laughing, the four brothers turned away in unison, sharing a round of high fives.

Reality slowly seeped in. They’d forgiven him. He and Allison had the Buchanon blessing. She was here.

“I can’t believe this.”

“Believe it. Come home.”

“Tonight I knew I could never stay away forever. I’m sorry, so sorry for hurting you.”

“Will you shut up and kiss her, already!” A chorus of laughs came from the wall of backs turned toward him.

Jake needed no further invitation. As the world around him righted, he lowered his face to Allison’s.

And finally, after nine long years, he could breathe again.

Epilogue

T
he Buchanon house was a zoo on Christmas Day. With the smell of turkey and sage stuffing lingering on the air long after dinner, Jake stood in the divider between the dining and family rooms. The house was jammed with Buchanons, friends of the Buchanons, neighbors with nowhere else to go for Christmas and he and his grandmother. Miss Pat, who’d made the trip on her walker, insisted on helping with the dishes, a sight that thrilled her grandson who’d despaired of her ever functioning on her own again.

He couldn’t believe the changes since that night at the rodeo. As awkward as the initial days had been, the Buchanons were a family who kept their word. He was welcomed, forgiven. Though they were no closer than before to discovering who was vandalizing Buchanon work sites, no one pointed fingers at Jake. He prayed that never changed.

Allison’s laugh came to him from the kitchen and suddenly she was there, her small hands on his shoulders. “Hey, cowboy. Ready to open presents?”

“I already have the only ones I ever wanted. You.” He jerked his chin toward the passel of family sprawled around the living room television. “Them. Home.”

Her brown eyes softened. “Oh, Jake. This is the best Christmas ever.”

“I can’t argue that.” Things weren’t perfect. Problems remained with the mortgage and finances, but now that he was home for good, now that he had Allison at his side, he was confident something would work out.

In one corner of the large family room stood a massive Christmas tree trimmed in gold and red with a sprinkling of tiny football helmets and a lighted angel on top.

Someone flipped the television channel away from football and for once, no one complained as the sounds of the season came softly through the speakers. In a flurry of wrapping paper and ribbons, the family tore into gifts.

Jake and Allison sat on the floor in between Quinn and Jayla. Gifts piled into his lap, but his focus was Allison and her family, the hot air balloon feeling in his chest. He unwrapped a new wallet, a belt he and Allison had seen at the rodeo, a dinner for two at the Chinese restaurant. The pile grew until he was amazed.

“I can’t believe this,” he said, dumbfounded at what lay in the bottom of a small box.

Allison, deep in scarves and jewelry and books, looked up. “What is it?”

He handed her the card. “Did you have anything to do with this?”

As she read, Allison gasped, her expression turning from incredulity to joy. “The mortgage is paid in full.”

“You didn’t know?”

“No! This is wonderful. You won’t have to sell your bulls. You can start your ranch.”

Yes, and he could do something else, too. “But who?”

“Does it matter? This is the note, cancelled, fulfilled.” Eyes dancing, she kissed the corner of his mouth. “The Hamilton debt is paid in full.”

The wonder of the day overwhelmed him. “Kind of like Jesus, huh?” he said, softly. “He paid our debts when we couldn’t.”

“Exactly. Oh, I’m so happy for you. For us.”

He caught her hand and drew it to his heart. Around them, paper flew and people talked while some kid sang about wanting a hippopotamus for Christmas. He didn’t want a hippopotamus. He wanted her.

“I should have bought you a ring.”

Allison froze in midchatter. “What did you say?”

“I thought we’d have to wait for years, but with the mortgage paid and the new job with Manny, we can make this work. Marry me, Allison. Be my Christmas present forever.”

She opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again. Tears flowed down her cheeks.

“Don’t cry. I love you.” Jake’s whole body quivered with the joy and hope she’d brought into his life.

Then surrounded by the awe and beauty of Christmas and the gift of family, Allison threw herself into his arms and through laughter and tears promised to be his.

And that was his best Christmas present ever.

* * * * *

Look for more books
in
New York Times
bestselling author
Linda Goodnight’s new miniseries
THE BUCHANONS
in 2015.
You’ll find them wherever
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Keep reading for an excerpt from SAVED BY THE FIREMAN by Allie Pleiter.