The Kidnapped Christmas Bride (Taming of the Sheenans Book 3) (17 page)

For a half hour the snowballs flew fast and furious with TJ and Trey joining forces to ambush McKenna. But then TJ changed teams and she and TJ launched a dozen snowballs at Trey, succeeding in getting several well placed ones in his face and collar.

TJ howled with laughter as Trey shook the snow out of his shirt, and then laughed again as Trey took McKenna down, turning her into a shrieking snow angel.

And then they were all snow angels, lying on their backs beneath the intensely blue sky, moving their arms and legs to create their angel wings.

Chilled from lying in the snow, TJ jumped up and raced to get the sled for one more trip down the hill and Trey gave McKenna a hand, pulling her up to her feet.

“When he stops moving, he’s going to be soaked through and cold,” McKenna said, watching TJ wrestle with the sled.

“He’ll need a hot bath and dry clothes.”

“Then lunch, and hopefully a nap.”

Trey stretched. “A nap sounds good.” He looked down at her and there was heat in his gaze. Desire, too.

She felt herself grow warm even as her heart began to thud, harder, faster.

Awareness licked at her veins, making her belly flip flop.

It would feel amazing to be with him, naked against him, his body filling hers. But the physical would cloud her judgment. The physical would make being rational impossible.

She took a steady step backwards, even as she hoped he’d close the distance and kiss her anyway.

Kiss her again, like he had last night…

Instead he took several steps back, also, and they were now standing a yard or two apart. As if strangers.

She didn’t know why she felt a sudden urge to cry. She didn’t know why everything about this moment suddenly felt so deeply unsatisfying.

“This is the Christmas I wanted,” he said. “Thank you, Mac.”

He sounded sincere but for some reason his sincerity just made her more upset. My pleasure,” she said stiffly.

“I’ve loved every minute I’ve been able to spend with TJ.”

She ground her teeth together. “You said you wanted Christmas with your son. I’m glad you’re getting it.”

“Not just with him, with you, too.”

“Right.”

The edge of his mouth lifted. “I mean it.”

“Sure. That’s why you came to the church to sort out TJ’s custody.”

“You know it wasn’t just about TJ. I was there for you, too.”

Her chin jerked up. “It didn’t seem that way.”

“You were in a wedding gown, marrying someone else. I couldn’t exactly storm the church and take you prisoner. There were a hundred and fifty people watching. I had to be careful. Discrete.”

She exhaled hard. “You might want to stop talking. Now you’re just making me mad.”

“Why? Because I’ve finally grown up enough to realize that what I want and need might not be what you want and need?”

“I’m not sure what you’re saying.”

He clapped his black gloves, knocking off excess snow. “Let’s not do this now.”

Her heart felt as if he was about to leap out of her chest. “Do what?”

“Have this conversation. We’ve had a really fun day, and it’s been an incredible Christmas so far—”

“We absolutely do need to have this conversation now. This,” she said, jabbing her mitten finger downward, “is exactly what we need to discuss.” She stared him in the eye, fierce and furious. And scared. Terribly, terribly scared. “Are you saying you don’t want me?”

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what
are
you saying?”

“I’m saying….” He drew a breath and yet his expression was firm, and totally unapologetic. “TJ needs us together.
I’d
like us together. But I’m not sure if
us
being together is the best thing for
you
.”

She dragged air into her lungs, hating the bittersweet pain that filled her heart. She focused on the wet sheen of icicles lining the edge of the cabin roof to keep from crying or getting even more emotional. “I don’t believe you.”

His shoulders shifted. “I love you enough to want what’s best for you. I’m not sure I’m the best for you.”

“Why? What’s changed?”

“I have. I know why I love you, and I know what I want for you, and that’s for you to be happy. And peaceful. I make you happy some of the time, but together, darlin’, we’re not peaceful. I don’t make you calm and easy. With me, you worry. But I don’t want my girl scared and worrying. That’s not good for you, not good for us, and not good for our son.”

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. And yet, hadn’t she just wondered if she could love him? If she could trust him not to hurt her? Not to break her heart again? Did she feel confident in them…or him? “I don’t know why you’re doing this now.”

“I want to protect you.”

“Protect me? Or, do you mean, protect yourself? Because my gut is saying you’re the coward. My gut is saying you don’t want to do the hard work required to make us succeed. My gut thinks you’ve decided to give up…take the easy way out. That’s what I think!”

He gazed at her a long time, eyes flashing fire, but he waited to speak until his tone was calm. Controlled. “I haven’t given up on us—I will never give up on us—but we have to be honest and do what is best for each other. Loving me is hard on you, Mac. Loving me hurts you, honey. It took me a long time to get it. Took me those four years in prison to understand what it means to hurt for someone, and baby, I hurt for you. And I hurt for hurting you and I can’t ever cause you pain like that again. I couldn’t live with myself if I did that.”

She turned away to look toward the dark blue lake with its perimeter of snow frosted trees. It was so pretty…so romantic…and yet there was nothing pretty or romantic about what Trey was saying. “You’re killing me,” she whispered, reaching up to tug her knit cap down. “You give me hope and then you just take it all away.”

“I’m not trying to hurt you. I’m trying to protect you from future pain—”

“The future isn’t here! There’s nothing here but you and me and TJ. So Sheenan, don’t you dare say you’re being practical and honest and all mature, because guess what? You’re not that practical and mature. You came to my wedding Saturday, you interrupted the service, you took TJ and then you grabbed me, stealing us from the church. You kidnapped me on my wedding day. And you didn’t turn around, you didn’t go back, and you didn’t feel remorse. You dragged us to a diner for a wedding night dinner and somehow between Marietta and White Sulphur Springs you captured TJ’s heart, and melted mine, and sorry, but you can’t act all good and chivalrous now, because it’s too late! You’re not this great guy. You’re not selfless and you’re not altruistic and your love is demanding and fierce and you do want me. You still want me, you bastard, and don’t you ever say you don’t!”

She shoved her mitten across her face, wiping her eyes, swiping at her nose. “Don’t you ever,” she repeated thickly. “Because it’s not fair. Not when we both know what we’ve always known—we were made for each other. We are meant to be together. And that’s why we have a son together. He’s not an accident. We are not an accident. And I’m tired of living like we—this—us—is just one colossal mistake!”

She marched back to the cabin, desperate to get inside before TJ saw her cry.

Damn him.

Damn Trey.

He was the worst, most awful man in the world.

And if he was her angel, he was a fallen angel and it’d fallen on her to save his ass.

*

Trey sat in
one of the chairs by the fire, cleaning the snowshoes he’d found in the shed. The wood frames still looked good but the rawhide lacings were worn and needed attention. It seemed that mice had gotten to the leather and he made a note to order new lacings once he returned to Marietta. In the meantime, he carefully rubbed the ash frames dry, grateful to have something to occupy his hands and attention.

Dinner had been on the quiet side, at least between himself and McKenna. TJ had talked up a storm and hadn’t seem to notice, and once the dishes were done, McKenna curled up with TJ on the little couch, making up stories and asking TJ what he thought Santa Claus was doing right now.

She was still mad at him, still not talking to him, while showering TJ with hugs and kisses.

He didn’t mind McKenna showering TJ with love. McKenna should be an affectionate Mom. She should tell stories and play and be fun.

But Trey was having a hard time being shut out from the fun. He struggled with McKenna punishing him for being a
bad
guy, when in this instance, he was the
good
guy.

He hadn’t spent four years missing her and picturing a future with her, a future that hopefully included more children and family trips and holidays and traditions, to let go so easily. It was a life he wanted with every bit of his being…but it had to be right. For both of them. Otherwise it wasn’t the family life either of them desired.

He didn’t want a resentful or anxious wife. He didn’t want to be the source of someone’s anger, or worry.

He was who he was, and he was trying damn hard to do things better, but he’d never do everything perfectly. He’d make mistakes. He’d be impulsive, using his heart before his head. But that was who he was. He wasn’t Troy. Or Brock. Dillon or Cormac. He was himself.

Not bad.

Just not perfect.

Which was why he was trying to think of
her
, and what
she
needed. McKenna had been through a lot in her life. They never talked about what happened at the Douglas Ranch that one night, but he’d read about it in the papers. The murders had been discussed in agonizing detail around town. Trey’s dad had been one of the first responders on the scene, as the Sheenan ranch lay close to the Douglas property, but he wouldn’t talk about what he’d seen at the Douglas ranch, other than the thing he’d said when he came home
: it was the worst, most violent scene imaginable, and if God had any mercy at all, he’d let that one poor boy survive
.

Trey glanced up from the snowshoes to McKenna, watching her whisper something playful into TJ’s ear and making TJ giggle.

She deserved to be happy.

They all deserved to be happy.

Which didn’t mean he was walking away from her, or giving up on her, or giving up on them.

It just meant they had to be mature, and patient. They had to talk, and listen, and get a hell of a lot better at communicating.

They nailed some parts of it. They were experts at hot sex. But now they needed to get good at the other things, working together to make sure their relationship would last. He wanted what his parents didn’t have. A happy marriage.

A true partnership.

And you only got that with respect, trust, faith, forgiveness.

*

McKenna had forgotten
that when Trey was hurt he grew quiet. She’d forgotten that he wasn’t loud and out of control, but silent and thoughtful. Reserved.

He was certainly reserved now. He’d shut down, retreating to a chair in the corner where he sat doing manly chores and repairs, like weatherproof the old wooden snowshoes.

She wasn’t trying to ignore him, but she wasn’t going to struggle to fill the silence with meaningless small talk, either.

However, once TJ fell asleep on her lap, worn out from sledding and snowball fights and tramping around in the snow, the living room, silent except for the crackle and pop of the fire, felt uncomfortable.

Tomorrow was Christmas Eve. This wasn’t how she wanted Christmas to be.

She didn’t even know what had happened outside, earlier. Everything just seemed to shift and tilt and go wildly wrong.

She felt an ache as she watched Trey work, his dark head bent.

She wanted things different. She wanted them better. She wanted more with Trey, not less.

Not this.

Silence and anger and hurt.

Suddenly his head lifted and he looked up at her, his brow furrowed, expression shuttered. “If I didn’t want what was best for you, Mac, I’d be no man at all.”

“But who are you to decide what’s best for me?” she retorted defiantly. “Who are you to tell me what I need?”

“I know what you need. I’ve known you too long not to know. And for the record, I never said we’re finished, never said we’re through, because God as my witness, I will never ever walk away from you. I will always want you. I will always love you. And we might fight, and we might disagree, but that doesn’t mean I’m abandoning you. You’re my girl. But I’ve got to do right by you.”