Rocky Mountain Miracle Page 11

Maia’s eyebrow shot up. Cole sank back on his knees, groaning aloud. “Jase. That was a brotherly confidence you weren’t supposed to share.” He looked at Maia. “We’re still trying to get the hang of being brothers. Neither of us knows a lot about it yet, but I’m certain that was confidential.”

  “Brotherly advice?” Maia asked.

  “Something like that,” Cole admitted.

  Maia shook her head. “Don’t listen to him, Jase. Women like men to smile once in a while. They can only take brooding hunks for so long, then they get bored.”

  “You didn’t look bored to me,” Jase pointed out, abruptly switching sides.

  Maia laughed again, and the sound wound itself around Cole’s heart and warmed his insides.

  “And,” Jase added, “it’s rather sickening to hear my brother referred to as a hunk.”

  “She did call me that, didn’t she?” Cole said with evident satisfaction.

  “No one said you weren’t a hunk,” Maia’s blue-green eyes darkened as her gaze drifted over him with deliberate inspection. “But just because I noticed that you were hot doesn’t mean I liked you kissing me.”

  Jase snorted. “She liked it.

  Cole nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

  “So did you.” Jase grinned at him mischievously.

  “Way too much. The doc is one of those dangerous women your elders are always going to be warning you about.”

  Maia shoved at Cole with her foot. “I love the way you manage to turn the tables on me. I’m injured here. You’re supposed to be soothing me, not stirring things up.”

  Cole raised his eyebrow at her, his eyes going dark. “I don’t think I’ll touch that.” He went back up on his knees to examine the back of her head. “The ice seems to have done its job and stopped the bleeding and the swelling.”

  “Well good thing, since you weren’t paying attention,” Maia scolded.

  “I had better things to do.” Ignoring her wince, he pushed the matted hair from the cut. “I don’t think it needs stitches.”

  Maia jerked her head away. “Since I’m the only one capable of stitching anything, I should say not.”

  “I can stitch a wound if I have to. I sewed up my arm once,” Cole said.

  Jase and Maia exchanged a long frown. Maia wrinkled her nose. “Don’t tell us anything else. I’m going to have nightmares.”

  “I ran into a guard down in Colombia. He had a big knife. He wasn’t supposed to be there, and I got careless.”

  Maia reached out and pushed up the sleeve of Cole’s shirt to reveal a jagged scar about three inches long. “You aren’t making it up.”

  “I don’t make things up.” Cole got to his feet with a sigh of regret. It was time for all of them to return to the real world. “Jase, did you and Al go riding the other day? The day Wally was injured?”

  Jase shook his head. “No, the hands took care of the cattle, and Al stayed with me working around the ranch house. We saw the fence over by the corrals leaning and we repaired that. I nearly fell actually, but Al caught me before I went down the hill. The post was rotten or something and gave way. I discovered Wally a couple of hours later when I came back to the ranch house to put away the tools. I called Al, and he came right away.”

  Cole sighed. Someone had taken the horse out earlier. Either Jase was lying to him or something he didn’t understand was going on. “I didn’t like the look of the walkway this morning, Jase. It’s too much of a coincidence to have the horse injured and the walkway iced and the fence post give way when you leaned against it. I don’t like any of it.”

  “What are saying?” Jase asked.

  Maia could see the fear creeping back into the boy’s eyes and it saddened her. For a few minutes, he had been a normal teenager, teasing an older brother.

  “I’m just saying we’re stuck here until this series of storms passes, and I want you to be careful,” Cole said. “We should stick together when we go outside.”

  “Cole, who else is on the ranch? You told me no one was here other than the three of us,” Maia said. “Is it possible you’re being . . .” She broke off when his gaze swept over her face. The dark hunger was gone. His eyes were back to ice-cold, piercing blue.

  “Paranoid? Maybe. But it’s how I stay alive. I don’t know what’s happening, and until I do I just want to err on the side of caution.” He stood beside Jase, clapping a hand briefly on his shoulder. “That doesn’t mean we can’t have fun, or do the Christmas thing, it just means we stick closer together if we go outside. We can share the work and keep an eye on the doc when she’s looking at the horse for us.”

  “I came down here to tell the doc that my mother’s things are in the attic,” Jase said. “There’s a chest up there that might have a few Christmas ornaments in it.”

  Cole glanced at Maia’s face, trying to get something from her. He wasn’t certain what it was. Reassurance maybe. Courage. The thought of decorating the house turned his stomach.

  “I’d love to see some of your mother’s things, Jase,” Maia said with her usual warmth. Her gaze was on Cole, watching his face closely, reading too much.

  He presented a stone carving to the world, a man invincible, one who had no fear, yet she seemed to see through the barrier between him and the rest of the world. The one woman he wanted to impress. The only woman who got under his skin and threatened to turn his carefully ordered world upside down was the one who saw him vulnerable.

  Maia sighed. “Jase, you ever notice Cole can look scary?”

  “I told him he did,” Jase said, with a triumphant grin toward Cole. “Just last week I told him that.”

  “He does it when he’s losing a battle.”

  Cole raised an eyebrow. “I don’t lose battles. Don’t be telling the boy a thing like that.” A part of Cole stood off to the side, observing the banter, the way Maia seemed to be able to bring them all together when there was always such a distance between him and everyone else. A distance between Jase and everyone else. He wished he knew how she did it.

  No one had ever teased him before. Even his coworkers refrained from venturing into personal territory with him, but Maia had no problem giving him a bad time. He reached out, tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear before he could stop himself. He wanted to touch her, to feel her skin. He ached for her. Cole pulled himself up short. He was beginning to want more than her body. He found himself looking for her smile, listening for her laughter, watching the expressions chase across her face.

  Jase’s rude snort of derision dragged him from his thoughts. “You’ve got it bad, Cole. You’re a goner.”

  Cole couldn’t take exception when he heard the laughter in the boy’s voice. It was genuine and even affectionate. Maia had managed to put it there somehow. He turned away from both of them, a lump in his throat. “I’m denying everything,” he managed to get out. His voice was husky, and he knew if he looked at her, Maia would have a small knowing smile on her face.

  “What are we going to do with the doc?” Jase asked.

  “She can just sit there holding the ice pack, and we’ll go up to the attic and get this box you want. I finished feeding the horses before I came in. Al’s got the cattle under shelter with plenty of feed, so we’re good for a few hours. We may as well start figuring out what we’re supposed to do about Christmas.”

  Maia’s laughter came again. “You sound like a man about to be hung. Christmas is fun, Steele, not a funeral. Jase, the man has such an Eeyore attitude.”

  Cole swung around. “Eeyore? You just called me Eeyore.”

  Jase burst out laughing, joining Maia. The sound drifted through the ranch house, dispelling the cold, barren feeling and replacing it with a warmth that had never been there before.

  chapter

  8

  COLE DUSTED OFF THE BOX before he brought it down to Maia. Jase had obviously managed to remove things he’d treasured and conceal them before his father could throw them out. It said a lot about the boy’s courage. He’d only been te
n when his mother had been killed. He must have been terrified to defy his father and gather her things. The housekeeper would have reported it had she seen him, and there were the cameras to avoid, yet the boy had managed to keep a few precious items. As Cole placed the box carefully in front of Maia, he realized his genuine affection for the boy was growing. And that was frightening.

  He couldn’t warn Maia how much the contents of the box meant to Jase because the teenager was right beside him, anxiously watching his every move. He could only hope she would notice as she seemed so aware of every little nuance involving the boy.

  “This is wonderful, Jase,” Maia said, warmth and enthusiasm spilling over into the room. “Like discovering a treasure box. How ever did you know it was up there?”

  Cole let his breath out. “He managed to put up there when he was ten, right after he lost his mother.”

  Maia looked up at the gruff note in Cole’s voice. “I’ll be very careful going through it, Jase, don’t worry.” She slipped off the couch and sat tailor fashion on the floor beside the box. “Do you remember what you put in here?”

  Jase sank down beside her. “Yeah. I never went up to the attic, although I thought about it a lot, but I was afraid the old man would catch me and throw it all out.” He glanced at Cole fearfully as if he might be revealing too much.

  “That was smart,” Cole said. “If he caught you, there would have been hell to pay. While you’re looking over what we have, why don’t I fix us something to eat. How’s the head feeling, Doc?” He needed her to look at him. He had to know Jase was safe with her, but he had to get out of the room before that box was opened.

  His blue gaze met and clung to hers. Maia sat very still, letting the heat in his eyes wash through her. She saw into a part of him he tried so hard to hide. Ravaged. Damaged. A man struggling to overcome his own past in order to save a boy. She didn’t want to see it because it only drew her deeper into the lives of the Steeles and she didn’t want that. She’d disclosed too much to him already. Kissed him when she should have resisted. She ached for the boy he’d been and the man he’d become. “A bit of a headache, nothing serious,” she answered.

  Jase watched Cole leave the room. “He says it’s okay to celebrate Christmas; I don’t think he really wants to.”

  “Maybe he needs to celebrate it, Jase,” Maia said. “He’s a grown man, and he’s quite capable of deciding what he does and doesn’t want to do. If he’s given you the go-ahead, then he must want to celebrate the holiday as well. And isn’t it about time? Christmas is a special time of year. I love the way it brings everyone together. It’s a time for family. Cole never really had a chance to have a family before, but now he has you.” Carefully, she began to open the box.

  “Do you have a family waiting for you to get home?”

  “Not anymore. I was an only child. My parents died when I was sixteen, and I went to live with my grandmother. I lost her a few years ago. No cousins, no aunts or uncles. I’m pretty much it.”

  “That must be awful for you not to have someone to be with when you love it so much.”

  Maia smiled at him. “I would prefer to have a huge family, but since I don’t, I find ways to celebrate.”

  “My father hated Christmas,” Jase began in a rush. “He was really mean around Christmas, and he forbade us to ever have a tree or presents or decorations. If Mom gave me a present, he threw it away and he . . .” Jase trailed off. “Mom was like you.”

  “She loved Christmas?” Maia pulled open the flaps of the box, nearly holding her breath, careful not to look at Jase.

  “Yeah. She used to sneak me presents, and when we were alone she’d show me the decorations her mother had given her. They’d been in her family a long time. She loved the ornaments and always wanted them on a tree. She used to tell me we’d put them on a tree together someday, but we never did. If she’d tried to do that, my father would have smashed them . . . and her.”

  Maia took a deep breath and let it out slowly, praying she could come up with the right words for Jase. The pain and horror and guilt of a young boy being the cause of his adored mother being “smashed” by his abusive father were in Jase’s voice. Despair and helplessness, love and regret were in his eyes. She was determined to find a way to heal the pain in the boy she was growing so fond of.

  “We can do it for her, Jase. This was her house too, wasn’t it? We can give it back to her. If you tell me the things she loved, we can redecorate and make it your mother’s home the way she wanted it. The way it should have been.” Maia leaned toward him. “You asked me how I celebrate. Well, I always do something fun, but I want to do something for someone. Let’s do it for your mother.”

  “But she’s dead.”

  “You think about her every day don’t you?”

  Jase nodded.

  “Then she’ll never be dead. It doesn’t matter whether you believe in another life after this one, Jase, only that she’s alive through you. She wanted to celebrate Christmas and we can give her this. If you want to do it. As long as you’re comfortable with it.” Without waiting for an answer, Maia looked into the box. Everything was carefully wrapped in paper. She could tell the tissue was old and that Jase’s mother had been the one to preserve many of the items originally. Jase had simply done what his mother had taught him. Several tissue-wrapped items lay on a folded quilt. She lifted the first one out of the box, brought it to her lap, and gently began to unwrap it.

  Beside Maia, Jase audibly drew in his breath, his body tensing as she slowly drew back the tissue paper to reveal the treasure it protected. The ornament was beautiful, a shimmering star, platinum and covered with glass sparkles that reflected light from every angle so that it seemed to shine on its own right there in her hand. She held it up.

  “I remember that star,” Jase said. “She took it out and held it up just like you’re doing. She said when she was young her mother always put it near the top of the tree closest to the lights so it would shine all the time.”

  “Where are we going to get a tree? We might have to improvise,” Maia said.

  Cole had been listening just outside the entryway, unable to stay away. He sighed, knowing she was drawing him deeper into unknown territory. He moved back into the room to stand in front of her. “We’ll manage a tree, Doc. There’s bound to be a break or two in between storms.”

  “You’ll really get a tree, Cole? Bring it in the house?” Jase asked.

  “Sure. We can put it in front of the window. I doubt if you have enough decorations for a big one, but we can improvise.”

  Maia put the star carefully to one side and reached for a second ornament. “We’ll have fun making ornaments. And I checked out the kitchen. You’re certainly not short on food supplies. We can bake all kinds of things and probably cook a traditional Christmas dinner as well.”

  “I like the sound of that,” Jase said. “I’m hungry all the time.”

  “He’s a bottomless pit,” Cole confirmed. “We bring in more groceries than we do feed for the stock.”

  Jase was thin, even for a teenager. Maia could imagine that he was just beginning to trust enough and be confident enough in his relationship with Cole to regain his appetite. She leaned back against the couch as she held up the second ornament. It was an alligator with a red knitted scarf circling the neck. The jaws of the alligator opened and closed when she turned the tip of the tail.

  “Why would someone have an alligator hanging on the tree?” Cole asked, taking it from her to examine it closely. “I thought you always had Santa Claus and things like that. This is pretty cool.”

  “Mom was from Louisiana,” Jase reminded. “She used to pretend the alligator was going to bite my finger. She said it was to remind her of home.”

  “What else is in there?” Cole asked, curious. He had never really looked at any Christmas ornaments before, avoiding the decorated trees in the stores wherever he happened to be when the holiday rolled around. For most of his life he’d told himself it was
stupid, hanging things on trees, but the little alligator evoking the memories of Jase’s mother seemed different.

  Maia handed him the next ornament, a crystal crescent moon with a small baby lying inside the curve of the moon and a little silver star hanging off the tip. It was dated fourteen years earlier. Cole turned it over and over. He looked at Jase. “This is commemorating when you were born. I wish I’d had the chance to meet your mother, Jase.”

  “Too bad we can’t get to town,” Maia said, struggling to keep tears from flooding her eyes. She might have lost her family, but when she had one, it had been wonderful. She’d been raised to feel secure and loved by her parents and grandmother. “This will be the first Christmas you’re spending together as a family. We could have picked up an ornament celebrating that.”

  “I would have liked that,” Jase said, taking the small crystal moon from Cole.

  “The great thing about not having a tradition is, you get to start your own,” Maia pointed out.

  “We don’t need to go to a store,” Cole said gruffly. “I can carve an ornament for us. What do you think it should be?”

  “Cole’s a great wood-carver,” Jase said. “You should see some of the things he’s done. Something to do with a horse, Cole. Can you do that?”

  “I can come up with something.”

  “Carve the date into it,” Maia advised.

  “Dinner’s ready if you two want to eat something.” Cole said to hide how uncomfortable he was with the way the conversation was going. Have someone take a few shots at him with a gun, and he was on familiar ground, but he was feeling his way with Jase, trying to give his brother a sense of security and home. He couldn’t believe he’d opened his mouth and offered to carve a Christmas ornament.

  He shoved his hands through his hair in sudden agitation. He didn’t even know what a home was. Who was he kidding? He was beginning to sweat just thinking about night coming. They’d arisen late after staying up taking care of the horse, and now the afternoon was waning. He glanced out the window. The snow was coming down endlessly, large flakes that held them prisoner at the ranch. He hated the place. How could bringing in a tree and hanging a few ornaments change that?