Tuesday, December 20
Dropping the first box of Christmas ornaments he’d brought in from the storage shed on the dining room table, Cade Warren turned around in search of Momma Jane. Finding her standing at the kitchen sink, he moved over beside her, giving her a quick peck on the cheek.
“Hey, Cade.” Smiling in greeting, she leaned in and kissed his cheek in return. “How’s my oldest, handsome stepson doing this evening?”
“Hey,” he grinned. “I’m good. How about yourself?”
“Not bad.”
“Have you picked out a tree yet?”
“Yep,” she nodded. “I found it yesterday. Your brother took care of cutting it down earlier today. It’s in the horse barn, waiting on you.”
“Sounds good,” he nodded, already heading for the back door. “I’ll go get it now. Remind me to thank him for the help later.”
“Hey, Mom, I didn’t realize you were still in here,” Emma greeted a little too enthusiastically, stepping into the kitchen a split second before the door closed behind Cade. “I figured you’d already be in your room, watching old Christmas movies. You always do that this close to Christmas.”
“I know,” her mom grinned, kissing her daughter on the cheek, before heading for the hall. “That’s where I’m headed now. I’ve already got ‘Scrooge’ with Albert Finney in the player, waiting for me. Have a good night, Sweetie.”
“Oh, I intend to,” she whispered, watching her mom walk out of the kitchen. “My plan is to drive Cade as crazy as possible.”
Having recognized Emma’s tone for what it was, Cade had stepped back into the kitchen, and stood there now, just managing not to swallow his tongue, and shot her a dark scowl, despite the instant heat of desire appearing in his dark brown eyes.
Obviously dressed for a date, she wore a dusty pink sweater falling off one shoulder, and jeans tight enough not to leave anything to the imagination. The last three years, while decorating the tree, she’d just worn pajama bottoms and a long-sleeved t-shirt. She definitely wasn’t dressed to stay in for the night. It didn’t help that she had her pale blonde hair falling to her waist and curling over one shoulder. “You’re a little overdressed for decorating the tree, aren’t you?”
“What’s your point?” she grumbled, looking everywhere but at him.
“What are you all dressed up for?” he asked. Not that he didn’t already know the answer.
“I’ve got a date,” she answered, still refusing to look him in the eyes.
“Well, that explains why you barely eat anything at dinner. Just a couple of bites of your chicken. Claiming you just weren’t all that hungry. But no, you don’t have a date,” he growled, quickly moving across the room to tower over her five-foot, six-inch, curvy frame. “We’re supposed to put the tree up tonight. For your mom. She already has all the other Christmas decorations up. This place practically looks like a winter wonderland with all the fake snow and colored lights. And she has about twenty miniature North Pole and Christmas villages strung out through the house. Along with the Nativity scene on the front porch. I nearly tripped over a plastic camel coming in the house earlier, and I’ve come close to inhaling a ball of cotton more than once already. I fear I’ll be hacking up hairballs like a cat soon. Well, cotton balls rather. We need to get the tree up.”
“I only have so much time before I have to go back to Saint Louis for classes. I’m going out tonight. We can put the tree up tomorrow night. I’ve already talked to Mom about it.”
“It’s already the twentieth. Christmas is in five days.”
Throwing her hands out to her sides, she finally looked up at him, only to smirk. “And we leave the tree up until after New Year’s day,” she answered back, her bright blue eyes shining with mischief. She was debating in her head how long she figured it would take him to explode with fury.
“Christmas is for family,” he growled, crowding his six-foot, three-inch, muscular frame into her space, and pushing his nose against hers, his dark eyes glowing with that fury she’d just been thinking about. “Not dating. And if you talked to your mom about it, why didn’t she say something to me about it when I asked her about the tree?”
“You don’t get to tell me what Christmas is for,” she growled, pushing him back several feet, but only because he let her. She didn’t bother answering him about telling her mother. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to lie again. Especially, if she had to look him in the eyes. She always got lost in his chocolate brown eyes, but she was certain he’d never noticed. If he had, he’d never chose to do anything about it.
“Well, who are you going out with?” he snarled. Who do I need to kill?
“That’s none of your business.”
“Oh, it’s definitely my business,” he scoffed. You’re mine. “Considering the possible candidates in this area, it’s reasonable for me to be concerned, whoever the guy is, he’s dating you for the wrong reasons.”
“Oh, and what reasons would be the wrong ones?”
“Anything from possibly just wanting a quick screw, to trying to use you as a way to get their hands on part of this ranch.”
“Did you have to be so crass?” she grumbled, eyeing him with disgust.
“Hey, at least you were clear on what I meant,” he smirked.
“So, obviously you think I’m easy.”
“I didn’t say that.” Growling, he eyed her pants with irritation. “Of course, with those jeans, if a person didn’t know you, you couldn’t blame them for thinking the worst. What did you do, paint those things on. There’s no question what-so-ever about the plump, roundness of your derriere with those on.”
“Good grief,” she huffed. “Are you calling me fat?”
“Of course not,” he snorted, temporarily forgetting his anger. “Round and curvy is not the same thing as fat. You’re perfect.”
“Oh,” she breathed, her cheeks heating from the compliment. Quickly shaking it off, she continued with a small shrug. “Anyway, you just said you didn’t think I was easy, but now you’re insulting my wardrobe choice. Make up your mind.”
“I said if a person didn’t know you, they couldn’t be blamed for thinking the worst.”
“Okay,” she huffed, raising an eyebrow at him. “If you don’t think I’m easy, you obviously think the only reason a guy would want to date me is because of this ranch?”
“Would you stop putting words in my mouth? There are plenty of reasons a man would want to date you. All having to do with you.”
“Fine, how am I putting words in your mouth?”
“I said, considering the candidates in this area,” he snarled, managing to step even closer than before. “There’s not many to choose from around here. And none of them are good enough for you.”
“Yeah, well, it’s still none of your business.”
Hearing the doorbell ring, instead of waiting for him to present another argument, she spun on her heels, heading for the living room, and the front door.
“Hang on,” he growled, quickly following behind her. “I’m not done talking to you.”
“Well, I am done talking to you, so leave me alone, Cade,” she huffed, swinging the front door open wide enough to reveal Jeffery Moore standing on the other side. A young man of thirty, he was average height, with barely any meat on his bones. His skin was so pale, it was nearly transparent. And if one found him lying prone, with his eyes closed, they might think him dead. That’s how bad it truly was.
“Seriously, Emma?” Cade growled from behind her.
“What now, Cade?”
“He’s the worst of the bunch,” he snarled, throwing a hand in the other man’s direction. “With the possible exception of Justin Tate.”
“Justin Tate,” she snorted. “That’s one I hadn’t thought of.”
“Don’t even think about it,” he growled, lowering his lids at her. “He’s dangerous. And are you seriously going out in that sweater, with your shoulder bare? You’ll be half frozen five minutes after leaving the house. It’s like fifteen degrees out there, with more snow in the forecast.”
Opening the coat closet beside the front door then, she pulled her fleece-lined, knee-length winter coat out. “I plan on wearing this. I’ll be fine. Plenty warm.”
“Seriously? Are you really going out with this idiot?” he growled, gesturing at the man still standing on the front porch, with a somewhat shocked look on his face.
“It’s just a date,” she shrugged, moving out onto the covered porch with Jeffery. She turned then to look back at Cade with a smirk and closed the door in his face, not giving him more time to object to her date choice.
“Dang it, Emma,” she heard him growl through the door.
“What’s his problem?” Jeffery huffed, rolling his eyes.
“Apparently, he doesn’t like you.” Of course, that’s not saying that I do.
“What’s wrong with me?” he huffed, slapping his hands to his chest in obvious indignation.
To Emma, he sounded more like a whining, twelve-year-old-girl, than a grown man. He wasn’t far from looking like one either. Well, except for the painfully short haircut. Truthfully, she was certain she’d saw twelve-year-old-boys, and girls, with more muscle than Jeffery had on his body. She figured any one of the local, high school volleyball team could beat the snot out of the man. The task would probably hardly wind them as well.
“I don’t know,” she shrugged. Everything. Largely though, you’re a weasel.
“He’s not going to chase us down, is he? I’ve heard stories of him chasing you down for one reason or another. And he’s rather large.”
“I don’t know,” she shrugged again, wrapping her arm through his, and pulling him away from the front door. I certainly hope so. “I guess we’ll find out. Regardless of any of it, we should get going. It’s too cold out here to stand around talking. At least with all this snow, it’s starting to truly feel like Christmas. I’m praying for a little Christmas magic for myself.”
“Yeah,” Jeffery snorted, obviously not all that impressed with the white fluff all around them. Or her prayers for Christmas magic, for that matter.
~~~~
“Dang it,” Cade snarled once more, turning back toward the kitchen.
Entering the large room with a table long enough to seat eight people easily, and at least four more if everyone was willing to get a little cozy with each other, he immediately headed for the refrigerator. His mission to grab a beer, or four, and that was just for starters, he was intent enough in his purpose, he missed his brother, Ethan, standing at the kitchen’s stainless steel farm sink. He had his first beer drank, and was started on his second one, when his little brother finally drew his attention his way. Well, younger brother anyway. Physically, Ethan was the larger of the two. Standing two inches taller than his own six-foot, three inches, his younger brother had the muscle mass to go with it.
“Why are you drinking so heavily, Bro?”
Jumping from the shock, he nearly spewed beer all over himself, and the kitchen. “What the heck, Ethan? Are you trying to cause me to choke on this stuff? I could have sworn you said you didn’t want to take over running the ranch from Dad. You want me to do that. I’m not going to be able to do that if you cause me to strangle on beer.”
“Well, if you don’t want to strangle on that stuff, maybe you shouldn’t guzzle it so fast,” Ethan chuckled. “And if I was trying to cause you to choke yourself, I seriously failed. You spit it everywhere.”
“Funny,” he snarled. “I may not have choked, but you did cause me to waste some of it.”
“I’m sure you still have plenty left.”
“Did you want something, or are you just here to aggravate me?”
“Well, I actually just come over to talk to Dad, but I’ve already done that. However,” he continued before Cade had a chance to turn back to his beer. “I want to know why you’ve downed… two beers in less than two minutes.” That last was stated as he watched his brother quickly finish off the second bottle as he spoke.
“Give me a minute,” Cade grumbled, reaching back in the refrigerator for two more bottles.
“Dang it, Cade, that may not be straight whiskey, but if you drink enough of them, especially at the rate you’re going, you will get drunk.”
“That’s what I’m trying for,” Cade nodded. “And that’s an excellent idea. I need whiskey.”
“I was not making a suggestion, Cade. And you definitely do not need whiskey.”
“Does Dad still keep whiskey in the freezer?” Grumbling to himself, he pulled the door to the built-in freezer open, and disappeared behind the door for several seconds. When he reappeared, already drinking straight from the black-labeled bottle, Ethan jumped into action, quickly moving to his brother’s side.
“Cade, you don’t even normally drink more than one or two beers. Slowly. You definitely don’t need to down half a bottle of whiskey in one drink.” Taking the bottle from his brother, he quickly found the lid in the freezer.
“Hey, give me that back,” Cade growled, trying to snatch it back before his brother got the freezer door reclosed.
“No, stay out of there,” Ethan huffed. “If you’re going to insist on continuing to drink, at least stick with beer.”
“Whiskey will get the job done faster.”
“No duh, Sherlock.”
“Whatever,” he huffed, yanking the fridge door open hard enough to make its contents rattle. Once his baby brother grew bored of playing mother hen, and left him in peace, he fully intended to get that whiskey bottle back out.
“Once again, why are you drinking so hard all the sudden?”
“Emma is out on a date with… Get this, with Jeffery Moore.”
“And instead of following her around town this time, you decided to get plastered,” Ethan nodded in understanding. “Great,” he added sarcastically.
“I’ve done that enough in the past,” he whispered, taking a small ring box out of his pocket to flip around. Ethan knew immediately what was in that little box. Their grandma Warren’s engagement ring. Their dad had given it to Cade the day they buried her. His brother had been planning on giving it to Emma this Christmas.
“Obviously,” Cade continued with a heavy sigh. “If she’s willing to go out with that momma’s boy, I’ve not got a snowball’s chance in hell. Now, leave me alone, so I can get back to my drinking.”
“Okay,” Ethan whistled, yanking his phone out of his pocket on the way back to the living room.
Five seconds later, Sammy Wade, Emma’s best friend chirped in his ear. “Hey, Sexy, what can I do for you?”
“Marry me,” he popped back, far more seriously than she might have believed.
“Funny,” she huffed. “What did you call about?”
“We’ll get to that,” he growled in response. “I wasn’t trying to be funny.”
“I’m still not convinced.”
“What’s it going to take?”
“I don’t know.” Hearing a heavy sigh, he could well imagine her shaking her head. “That’s for you to figure out.”
“Yeah, I’m going to figure it out,” he growled low. The first opportunity I get, I’m going to pin you to the nearest bed.
“Why did you call, Ethan?” she growled with impatience.
“Do you know anything about Emma going on a date with Jeffery Moore?”
“Oh, yeah,” she hissed. “She got it in her head it might make Cade crazy. Jeffery’s a big momma’s boy, and just about useless in every way.”
“Crazy with jealousy to be exact.”
“Really? What did he do?”
“Not do,” he growled, peeking back into the kitchen. “He’s still doing it.”
“Oh-kay? What’s he doing?”
“Getting drunk.”
“Cade doesn’t get drunk.”
“He is tonight,” he sighed, still standing at the kitchen door. “He now has six empty beer bottles in front of him, and I’ve already taken what I’m certain was a mostly full bottle of whiskey away from him once. That was before he got a hold of it. It was a little over half full after. I’m also certain, if he doesn’t slow down, he’s going to vomit.”
“Oh wow,” Sammy whistled. “That was not the reaction she was expecting. I was hoping I couldn’t get a hold of her because she was with him. I wouldn’t blame her for turning her phone off. If they were… snuggling.”
“Well, it’s the reaction she got. Thankfully, he seems to have slowed down for the moment. Right now, he’s just staring off into space. What did she expect him to do?”
“She expected him to go after her.”
“He said he was done doing that. He seems to believe if she’ll go out with a momma’s boy like Jeffery Moore, he doesn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell.”
“Watch your mouth.”
“I was just repeating what he said.”
“Crap,” Sammy breathed across the line. “She’s really expecting him to go after her.”
“What was that about not being able to get a hold of her?”
“I’ve tried calling her a few times. I wanted to know how things were going. Her phone keeps going straight to voicemail.”
“Yeah, crap,” he grumbled in her ear.
“Someone has to go after her.”
“Well, Cade’s not leaving the house.”
“Obviously,” she snorted. “But she doesn’t want to complete a date with Jeffery Moore. We’ll have to interrupt their date in Cade’s stead.”
“What’s wrong with finishing a date with the guy? It’s just a date. They’re not getting married.”
“Jeffery has a reputation for being quite… handsy. She doesn’t want to have to be fending him off at the end of the night.”
“Fine,” he nodded. “We’d better go and get her. I’ll come and get you. It’s going to be up to you to figure out why we’re interrupting their date.”
“That’s fine. Just hurry.”
“I will.”
“Wait,” she said in a near shout, causing him to jerk back from the phone.
“What?”
“What if Cade passes out while were gone?”
“Dad’s in the office. I’ll let him know what’s going on, and have him keep an eye on him.”
“Is that a good idea? I mean, your dad’s a big man, but your brother’s still bigger. And considerably younger.”
“It’ll be fine. Dad can handle him.”
“Are you sure?”
“Two things. I’ve seen Cade drunk out of his skull before. He loses all sense of reason and is a complete goofball. He’ll do some really crazy things drunk. Not dangerous. Just off the wall. He doesn’t get violent or belligerent. And dad still works this ranch. He’s not just a figurehead. He’s got the strength to prove it. Once again, everything will be fine.”
“Okay, if you’re sure, I’ll see you when you get here.”
Cramming his cell phone back in his pocket, Ethan stuck his head back in the kitchen to check on Cade, sighing heavily. Crossing the room, he managed to reach his brother in time to stop him from going out the backdoor, his truck keys in his hand. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“To get Emma. Jeffery Moore doesn’t deserve her.”
“That may be so, but you aren’t going anywhere. You’re not fit to drive right now.” Taking his brother’s keys and cramming them in his own pocket, he turned the drunken idiot back towards the barstool he’d been sitting on earlier. “You stay here. Let me worry about Emma this time.”