Hometown Christmas Gift

Tucker shrugged. “Sorry, just trying to lighten the mood. I can tell what happened back then still weighs pretty heavy on your heart.”

“It does,” he said. They had no idea just how heavy. “Lainie wanted to see where things might go between us. Even going so far as to tell me she was willing to turn down her full ride to college in California to remain in Bent Creek near me. Said she would find a job that would allow her to switch up her work schedule to travel to the rodeos I would be competing in.” Jackson’s pained frown deepened. “I couldn’t let her do that, sacrifice all the hard work she had put into getting that academic scholarship for me. So I told her that I only thought of her as a little sister. Nothing more. That the rodeo was where my heart lay. Or something to that effect.”

“Ouch,” Tucker said. “No wonder she has been avoiding you.”

“You did the right thing,” Garrett said with a nod.

Had he? Jackson wondered. Because letting Lainie go had been the biggest regret of his life.

Jackson caught sight of Lainie’s son slipping into the fort at the edge of the tree line as he drove up to Justin’s place. He couldn’t help but wonder if Lucas and his mother had gotten into another argument like the one he’d happened upon the day she’d arrived in Bent Creek. He prayed not. It had hurt his heart to see the emotional divide between the two of them.

He thanked the Lord, as he was sure Lainie had, that her parents hadn’t seemed to notice the rift between mother and son when Jackson had taken them there to visit. But then the Dawsons were overcome with joy to have them both back in Wyoming for good. Lucas had chatted away with his grandparents as if nothing was amiss, had feasted on the cookies his grandmother had baked for him, had even smiled, but every time Lainie had attempted to be a part of her son’s conversation with his grandparents he’d either clammed up or responded with his tiny brows knitted tightly together in an angry scowl.

Shutting off the engine, Jackson stepped down from his truck and made his way around to the back of the house. Sure enough, Lucas was exactly where Jackson had expected him to be, seated inside the fort on the rough-hewn wooden bench that ran along one side of the small space. Leaning back against the rows of treated boards that made up the walls, Lucas sat with his arms crossed, bottom lip trembling, tears spilling from his closed eyes.

Jackson knocked at the entrance where Lucas had left the door partially open in his haste to get inside.

The boy jumped, his head snapping up. “M-Mr. Wade,” he choked out.

Removing his cowboy hat, Jackson ducked and stepped inside. “Seems like I’m not the only one who thought this looked like a good place to slip away to and do some thinking,” he said matter-of-factly as he settled his much-larger frame onto the bench next to Lucas.

“I’m not thinking,” Lainie’s son said with a sniffle.

“No? Because this fort is the kind of place men tend to slip away to when they’ve got things on their mind that need to be sorted out.”

“But I’m not a man,” he countered.

“You’re not too far off from becoming one,” Jackson told him.

Lucas straightened ever so slightly, as if trying to appear the young man Jackson proclaimed him to be.

“Mind if I sit here and do some thinking, too?” Jackson glanced around as if taking in his surroundings. “Seems like a good place to do some.”

The boy shrugged. “I suppose.”

“I’ll just sit here, real quiet-like, while I mull some things over.” Like what he was supposed to do next. Coloring with his niece was one thing. Dealing with a little boy so overwhelmed by grief and anger over the death of his father that he couldn’t contain his emotions was a whole different matter altogether. “Unless you feel the need to talk,” he added as he placed his cowboy hat on the bench beside him and leaned back against the winter-chilled wall, crossing his arms in imitation of the distraught young man beside him.

Silence filled the small, five-by-six fort for several minutes. Jackson had to wonder if the cold was getting to Lucas like it was to him, seeping in through the thick denim of his jeans. It was December, after all.

“I wasn’t crying,” he said defensively. “Because men don’t cry. I was just thinking really hard.”

“Men do cry, son,” he told him. “My father cried when my mom was really sick. My brother Tucker cried when he and his wife had their baby boy.” He’d cried the day Lainie wed, he thought, the pain of it feeling as if it had just happened. No one had seen him do so, of course. It would only have led to questions he’d just as soon not have to answer. Questions like the ones he’d answered before leaving the ranch to go check on Lainie and her son.

“I cried when my dad died.”

“Understandable,” Jackson said quietly.

“And when my mom said we had to move away.” Scuffing the heel of one of his booted feet atop the floorboards, Lucas added with a mutter, “I don’t like it here.”

Jackson took a moment before responding, wanting to gather his thoughts. “No shame in feeling the way you do,” he finally said. “A move is a big thing, saying goodbye to old friends and all. But it also brings new friends into your life. New opportunities. And you might hold off passing judgment on Bent Creek until you’ve had a chance to really see what living here is like.” He prayed both Lucas and Lainie would find the happiness they were seeking here in Bent Creek.

“I want everything to be the way it used to be,” Lucas said, a small sob escaping his lips.

He couldn’t put himself in Lainie’s son’s shoes where the move was concerned. He’d lived his whole life in Bent Creek. But he did know a thing or two about grief. The hurt from losing his little sister still ran deep. He couldn’t even imagine what it felt like to be Lucas’s age and lose a father.

Jackson looked to Lainie’s little boy, who looked so much like his mother, from his dark brown hair to the slight sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of his nose. “Change can be hard,” he admitted. “Sometimes painfully so.” Especially when that change had involved hurting Lainie all those years ago, something she had never forgiven him for. But her happiness had meant the world to him, still did, in fact, and he knew that if she had given up the opportunity for him, Lainie would have come to resent him for it. So he’d done the only thing he could—he’d shut her out emotionally. The hurt he’d seen on her face that night, hurt he’d put there, had nearly broken him. He’d hoped that someday, once she’d finished college, he and Lainie might be at a better place to see where things might go between them. Only Lainie had moved on, finding the love he’d denied her, much to his regret. When she’d called to tell him that she had gotten engaged, it sent his entire life into a complete tailspin. And he had no one to blame but himself for his heart’s loss. “I can tell you this,” he added with a gentle smile. “Your mom wants you to be happy more than anything in the world. That’s why she brought you back to the place she grew up in, where you will have family and new friends.” He glanced up. “And this really cool fort.”

“Lucas!” Lainie’s voice rang out. A second later, the fort’s door squeaked open and she appeared in the undersized doorway. Her reddened eyes told Jackson that, like her son, she’d been crying, too. “Jackson?” she gasped in surprise, an immediate frown pulling at her pink lips.

He stood so abruptly, he struck the top of his head on the low-hanging ceiling—one meant for children, not full-grown men—with a loud thwack. “Lainie,” he replied with a grimace. Looking down into her pretty, tear-streaked face, his heart went out to her. He understood the tension he’d felt between her and her son a little better. Lucas was clearly struggling with being uprooted and he blamed his mother, who was doing what she felt best for him.

Worry pulled at Lainie’s features as her gaze zeroed in on the top of his head. “Jackson,” she said with a fretful groan. “Are you all right?” she asked, her hand lifting as if to see for herself. But then she drew back, letting her hand fall back down to her side.

Something sparked inside of him at that small gesture of concern, even if she had caught herself before acting upon it. It told him that a part of Lainie still cared about him, despite her determination to have him believe otherwise. Jackson rubbed the tender spot on the crown of his head as he hunkered just low enough to avoid any more contact with the wood planks above. “If this skull can take hitting a dirt-packed rodeo arena floor after getting bucked off a couple-thousand-pound bull, a little bump on the noggin isn’t going to do much harm.”

Contrary to the nod she gave him, the sadness in her hazel eyes seemed to deepen. Not that he would have thought that even possible. It was then Jackson realized he’d brought up the one thing that had put a wedge between them all those years ago, at least in her mind—his rodeo career. His heart suddenly felt like it was lodged in his gut. He hadn’t meant to bring up something that would only serve to add to her emotional hurts.

Memories of that evening, of the special dance they’d shared outside in the moonlight and all that had followed, came rushing to the surface of his mind. The choice he’d had to make that night had changed their relationship irrevocably, but he’d done it for Lainie. I love you, she’d said. And then he’d broken her heart. He’d never forget the intense regret that filled him at that moment, or the effort it took not to pull her back into his arms and tell her that he loved her, too. Instead, he’d stood silent, watching as Lainie lifted her chin, and then turned and walked away, out of his life without another word. His brave, sweet Lainie. No, not his

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