Christmas At Copper Mountain (A Copper Mountain Christmas) (12 page)

It was a mistake coming here.
It was a mistake getting attached. She was so very attached.

Leaving would hurt so much.

And she was leaving the day after tomorrow.

Harley closed her eyes, drew a deep breath, trying to block out her thoughts, her feelings
about returning to her family.

She couldn’t.
She wasn’t ready to return to California.

A knock sounded on her door.

Harley left her bed, slipped her robe on over her nightgown and opened the door.

Mack stood in the hall with a plate of yesterday’s sugar cookies and a glass of milk.
“We brought you a snack.” He smiled at her and yet his dark eyes looked anxious. “We hope you didn’t get in trouble with Dad.”

Harley took the cookies and milk.
“Thank you for thinking of me, and no, I didn’t get in trouble with your dad.”

“He’s not really as scary as he seems,” Mack said under his breath.

“I don’t think he is scary at all.”

“You don’t?”

She shook her head, smiling. “No. I think he’s just tired and a little bit lonely. I have a feeling he still misses your mom.”

“She died when we were babies.
We didn’t even know her.”

“But your dad loved your mom, and every time he looks at you, he thinks of her.”
Harley set the cookies and milk on her nightstand. “He loved her a lot.”

Mack shrugged.
“That’s what he says.”

“You don’t believe him?”

“Oh I believe him. But I kind of wish he didn’t love her so much.”

Harley blinked.
“Why?”

“Because maybe then Dad would have married someone else and we would have had a mom.”

Oh.

Oh, baby boy.

Harley’s heart ached. Here he was, eleven years old and wondering what it would have been like to have a mom.

She reached for Mack and gave him a swift hug.
These kids were stealing her heart, bit by bit, piece by piece. “Don’t give up hope,” she whispered in his ear before releasing him.

His eyes watered as he looked up at her.
“I won’t.”

Harley went downstairs the next morning at five-thirty. It was the time she started her day but when she reached the kitchen the lights were already on, the coffee made, and the fire burning brightly in the big fireplace, which meant that Brock was up already. She wondered if one of the cows had been calving, or if he was just taking care of paperwork.

At six he walked through the kitchen to refill his coffee.
She was making a breakfast casserole and she kept chopping the ham and Swiss cheese, trying to appear nonchalant but her pulse was racing in her veins and she wanted him to say something to help her make sense of what happened last night. That kiss had been so hot and intense... and so damn confusing, too.

She hadn’t slept well, tossing and turning, playing the kiss over and over in her head, all the while wondering what he’d say or do this morning.
Now it was morning and she just needed to know if he was angry, disappointed, or maybe just regretful.

She dumped the cheese and meat into a bowl and started dicing the green onion.

“Harley.”

She looked up to see Brock at the island, hands on the counter.

She set the knife down on the cutting board. “Yes?”

“Did you in any way encourage the kids to go chop down their own Christmas tree?”

Harley wiped her hands on the skirt of her apron. “No.”

“You didn’t know they were tree hunting?”

“No.”

“And if I told you I didn’t approve of all this Christmas fuss, and didn’t want them to get caught up in any more fuss
,
what would you say?”

“I’d ask you to let us have one more fun day of fuss before I leave tomorrow.”

“But you wouldn’t go behind my back? You wouldn’t do something I wouldn’t approve of?”

“No.”
Harley reached for the knife and the loaf of French bread. “I wouldn’t do that. I couldn’t do that.” She turned the bread and began slicing. “I don’t believe in breaking up families, and it would devastate me if I came between you and your kids.”

Brock stared at her a long moment.
“You were married twelve years.”

“
Almost twelve years.”

“Did you like being married?”

She paused slicing, her knife suspended in mid-air. She didn’t know how to answer that. She’d liked parts of marriage. Parts of it had been so hard. She hadn’t expected all the arguing. They’d fought over everything. Mainly money, and then family, sex, control. But always about money. He didn’t like budgets and saving. She’d been raised to be frugal, raised to bank your money, not spend it.

And then the discovery that David wanted out.
He’d fallen in love with someone else.

“We were separated at the time my husband and kids died,” Harley said quietly, turning the loose bread slices sideways to cut them into strips.
“No one knew that we were struggling. At least, I’d never told anyone in my family that David wanted a divorce. I couldn’t.” She looked up at Brock. “I didn’t want a divorce. Maybe it wasn’t a perfect marriage, but it was my marriage, and David was my husband, and we had three beautiful children. And I lost it all because he went behind my back, ignored me.” She gave her head a small shake and returned to cubing the bread. “So no, I would never defy you. Not unless it was life and death.”

Brock’s dark head inclined.
“Thank you,” he said quietly.

Harley worked hard to stay busy all day, and worked even harder to stay out of Brock’s way, so when the kids were at loose ends in the early afternoon, and Harley had caught up on her chores, she bundled up in layers and headed outside to find the kids, her pockets full of carrots and charcoal briquettes and an extra scarf to help them build a snowman.

At first the twins laughed at her, claiming they were too old to make snowmen, but when Harley started rolling snow around to make a big snow ball, they suddenly joined in, competing to see who could make the biggest ball and before she knew it, they were throwing snow and pushing each other into snow and chasing each other around the yard.

Harley screamed with laughter as Molly shoved a glove full of snow down the back of her coat, and inside her shirt. “That’s cold,” she shrieked, dancing from foot to foot as she swiped at the snow, trying to get it out.

The snow wasn’t going to come out.
It was already melting and making her wet and cold, which meant the only thing left to do was give Molly a taste of her own medicine.

Harley made a big
snow ball, ducked behind one of the pine trees and waited until Molly was whizzing snow balls at Mack and then dropped her snow ball right on top of Molly’s head.

But instead of laughing, Molly fell apart and stormed off, marching into the house.

Harley felt bad when Molly left. “I shouldn’t have done that,” she said, brushing snow from her gloves.

“You were just playing.”

“She didn’t like it.”

“Molly likes to make the rules and be in charge.
If she’s not, she has a hissy fit.”

Harley shot him a quick
side glance. “Does that bother you?”

“Most of the time, no.
Every now and then, yeah. She doesn’t realize that she wins because I let her win. I just don’t care enough to always fight.”

“That’s very mature of you.”

He shrugged. “It’s just a survival thing. Uncle Troy always said you got to pick your fights or you’ll be like Uncle Trey, serving time for fighting the wrong folks.” Mack saw her shocked expression and grimaced. “Yeah. I know. It’s bad.”

“This is your dad’s brother?”

“Yeah, and Uncle Trey was our favorite uncle, too. He used to live in Marietta so we’d see him a lot. But he’s been in jail a long time now.” Mack added a note of warning. “But don’t mention it to my dad. It makes him really upset. Uncle Trey was like Dad’s best friend.”

The wind swept through the trees, blowing snow from the limbs as they started walking back to the house.

Mack peeled off his gloves wet and tugged off his hat. “I get mad at Molly sometimes,” he said, “but she is my best friend.”

Harley smiled.
“You’re lucky you have each other.”

He nodded.
“Yeah. But it’s going to be weird in January.”

Harley glanced at the boy.
“Weird, why?”

“Because I don’t know what’s going to happen with the Academy.
” They’d reached the back porch and took turns scraping snow off the soles of their boots. “I don’t want to go back, not without her.”

“But Molly’s going back—” Harley broke off, seeing Mack’s brow furrow and his eyes darken.
“Isn’t she?”

“They kicked her out.”
Mack’s lips compressed. “Permanently, this time.”

“What did she do?”

He sighed. “Everything.”

Harley shivered inside her coat.
“She’s been in trouble before?”

“Yes.
They warned her that next time they’d expel her, but that’s what Molly wanted. She doesn’t like being away from Dad. She thinks Dad needs us here, home, so she... acts out. Does stupid stuff.” His dark head lifted, his hair shaggy and thick like his father, his dark eyes his father’s too. “She’s not bad, though. She just gets so homesick.” His shoulders twisted. “I do, too.”

Harley heard the dogs bark in the distance.
Brock must be heading toward the house. “Your dad doesn’t know, does he?” she asked.

“No.”

“He needs to know.”

“Yeah.
But I don’t know how to tell him. He’ll just get mad.” Mack sighed, expression troubled. “Seems like he’s always so mad.”

“I think your dad doesn’t know how to handle the fact that you and Molly are growing up.
I also think he’s worried that he’s going to make a mistake as a dad, and do the wrong thing.”

“The mistake was sending us to the Academy.”

“It won’t get any easier by not telling him. Better to break the news and get it over with. You’ll feel better when you tell him.”

He grimaced.
“I don’t think so.”

She laughed and ruffled his
hair which was icy cold. “He loves you, both you and Molly, so much. You have to believe that. You have to give him a chance. Now let’s go in and get into dry clothes, then you find Molly, make sure she’s okay, and I’ll start making some hot cocoa. Sound like a plan?”