Chapter 4-1
1560 Words
Chapter 4
THE OLD VICTORIAN FARMHOUSE glinted like a jewel in the night as Tara pulled up. Lights and garland twined the rails, followed the eaves. The whole place looked like a postcard.
What must it be like to live out here in all of this?
And they’d be spending Christmas here? Tara didn’t know whether to jump for joy or run away. The generosity of Jace and his family would certainly keep them warm this holiday and give all three of them cherished memories. But what happened next year when things were back to whatever version of normal she managed for Austin and Ginny? Nothing she could do could possibly live up to all of this.
A figure came down the porch steps. Livia. A blend of relief and disappointment trickled through Tara as she got out of the RAV. She wasn’t quite ready to face Jace again. She felt far too off balance around him, and that wasn’t a comfortable state for Tara. “I wasn’t sure where to park.”
“Where you are is fine. The apartment’s down here.” Livia led her down a path to a smaller barn out past the one that housed Pepper and Rupert.
“Y’all really know how to do Christmas, don’t you?”
Livia grinned. “It’s kind of the Applewhite thing. Goes with the territory when you have a tree farm.”
“I suppose it does. Do you ever get tired of it? All the hustle and bustle and forced holiday cheer?” Tara was pretty sure she was caroling in her sleep these days.
“Only when it starts the day after Halloween. The actual traditions attached to this place…nah. It’s all part of marking the seasons here. And it’s a privilege to be a part of so many families’ holiday traditions.”
“I’m sure after spending the holiday out here, the kids will be campaigning to make this a part of ours. Jace may have created a monster.”
“He’s a big boy. He can take care of himself. The apartment’s just up those stairs. It’s unlocked. Sorry to leave you here, but I’ve got bread coming out of the oven in a few minutes.”
“No problem. Thanks again.”
Livia disappeared before she could ask where her brother and sister were. With Jace, probably, given how they’d both glommed onto him like he was the best thing since peanut butter met chocolate. She’d just check the place out and breathe a minute before going to find him. Them, she corrected. She needed to steer clear of Jace.
Stairs went straight up to her left, just inside the barn door, then angled back right toward a railed space that began what had once probably been a hay loft. Tara sniffed, but the place didn’t smell of hay, more like pine or cedar, with a faint undertone of…apples? She made her way up the stairs, glancing down at the equipment neatly stowed below. It seemed like a sort of carriage house with tractor attachments lined up in rows down the side walls.
As Livia promised, the apartment door was unlocked. She opened it, expecting to have to fumble for a light switch, and stopped dead in the doorway.
He’d brought their tree.
The fully decorated Fraser fir that’d been in her living room a few hours before now stood in a place of honor near the window, twinkle lights blinking on and off in the darkness.
Tara stared for a long moment before absently reaching to turn on a lamp. Slowly, she circled the tree, marveling that the ornaments were not only intact, they seemed to be more or less exactly where they’d been originally. How the hell had he pulled this off? And when? He’d shown up at the house just before Tara had left to go teach her 5:30 yoga class and somehow she’d been agreeing to let him take the kids and their stuff out to the farm so they wouldn’t have to hang out in the gym office while she taught.
She wasn’t purely sure how that happened either.
What was she even doing here?
Footsteps tromped up the stairs and the man himself ducked into the entryway. “Oh good, you made it. Are you finding everything okay?”
“I just got here. Livia pointed me up.”
“How’d your class go?”
“Fine.” Though every bit of Zen she’d earned from the practice had evaporated when he’d walked into the room.
Jace crossed to one of the doors at the back of the apartment. “We put your stuff in here. Kids are across the hall.”
Because she didn’t know what else to do, Tara walked over and peered into both rooms. Twin beds were set up in each, cheerfully made up in red and green plaids. Her bags were set up on one of them. Her siblings had already laid claim to their room, Ginny scattering stuffed animals—far more than she’d had packed when Tara left her—and Austin his art supplies and comic books.
“Well, I guess they’ve made themselves right at home.”
A chuckle rumbled in Jace’s chest. “They’re great.”
She sighed and turned toward him, suddenly finding herself at eye level with his mouth. Because she wanted to stare at it, Tara forced her eyes upward. His cheeks were ruddy from the cold and he smelled of evergreens. She had the ridiculous desire to lean in for a better sniff, wanting to stroke her hand along the five o’clock shadow that darkened his cheeks.
Idiot. She wasn’t in a position to be noticing the fact that he was incredibly attractive. She had far too many responsibilities for that.
“So, um, where are the little heathens?”
“In the kitchen with Mom, baking cookies.”
“Cookies?” Tara couldn’t keep the alarm out of her voice. “Ginny’s diabetic. Has she been eating the—”
“Sugar free cookies,” Jace assured her. “Austin’s keeping an eagle eye on her. He warned us before we got started.”
Tara exhaled slowly, willing her heartbeat to slow. “Sorry. We had an ER trip last year with a massive hyperglycemic attack. I guess I’m still not over it.”
“It’s fine. I don’t expect that’s the kind of scare you ever really get over.”
True enough.
“So it’s just you? Nobody to pitch in with them?”
She shot a glare his way. “You’ve been coming into The Grind almost every day and flirting for the past two weeks. I don’t for a second believe you haven’t been asking around about me.”
“I’m not interested in gossip. I’m asking you.”
Not an outright denial. Tara didn’t know if she preferred his direct approach or not.
Well, she wanted to put some distance between them. This had certainly worked with anyone else who’d tried to get too close.
“Our father is in prison. Burglary. He had primary custody of the kids at the time of his arrest. Their mother disappeared for parts unknown years ago. Dad’s parents are dead and I don’t know about the kids’ maternal grandparents. As far as anybody knows, I am the only family they have left, so I’ve basically been a mom since I was nineteen. It’s me or the foster system, and I won’t do anything to jeopardize that.”
Jace didn’t look put off at all. In fact he looked…impressed? “You’re doing a great job with them.”
That’s exactly what she didn’t know. Giving into a rare burst of agitation, Tara paced away, toward the tree. “You haven’t been around them enough to know that.” She turned to pace back, only to realize he’d followed and she smacked right into his chest.
Jace reached up reflexively to steady her, and those big, broad hands curved around her shoulders. “I’ve been around them enough to know that Ginny thinks you walk on water and Austin respects you.”
“My brother doesn’t respect me. He barely even tolerates me.” Tara’s hand splayed across his chest against the navy sweater. She forgot what she’d said. Why wasn’t Jace letting her go? Why wasn’t she pushing him away?
“Maybe he didn’t at first. But you’ve proved you’ll stick. You give him rules and boundaries—which he needs—and every single day, you prove you care. And if he’s said otherwise to your face, well, he’s eleven. All little boys are punk ass kids at eleven.”
Tara’s lips twitched. “Were you?” She could imagine a smaller version of him, same impish grin, same big brown eyes feigning innocence.
“Me? Oh no. Livia was the punk ass. I was a sainted angel. And if my mother tells you otherwise, she’s lying.”
That wrangled a chuckle out of her. “Your halo’s a little crooked there, Jace.”
He released her and reached up, miming straightening the thing. “Better?”
She’d felt better with his hands on her. Grounded. The way she’d once felt with good dance partners, when she knew she could leap for the sky and they would catch her. Tara decided not to give too much thought to that. “Might need some spit and polish. Meanwhile, I should round up the kids and sort out dinner.”
“Should be ready any minute. C’mon.” He headed for the door.
“Y’all don’t have to feed us,” Tara protested, then belatedly wondered if he’d brought the contents of the fridge as well as the tree.
“You just moved in. Nobody expected you to cook. And around here, everybody takes a turn at KP. You’ll get yours. Livia’s on deck tonight, and I heard rumors of pork loin and roasted vegetables. After that, carols by the fire.”
“Seriously?” she asked, following him down the stairs.
“We take Christmas very seriously around here.”
I’m dreaming. I’m dreaming and I’m trapped in a Hallmark Channel Christmas movie.
“Well. Okay then.” What else was there to say?
- Writer
