A Texas Christmas Wish Read online

  Was Tyler being home the reason, or her and Bryce? She made sure he had the walker beside him as they started to unwrap all the memories of the Christmases past, one piece at a time.

  * * *

  They all stood back and looked at the tree that was about six inches from the ceiling. “Dad, do you think that’s enough room for the star?”

  “Yep, you did good.” Dub ruffled Bryce’s hair. “For your first time, you did a fine job. Lights go on first.”

  “Do we need to get new lights?” Tyler frowned at the two piles she had made of the tangled strands.

  “I already tested them. These are the strands that are still working. There was a whole container of lights. I think we have more than we need.”

  Picking up the coil closest to him, Tyler grinned at her. “Childress Christmas rule number one. No such thing as too many lights.”

  Bryce’s eyes went wide. “There are rules? What’s rule number two?” He took the end of the strand Tyler handed him.

  “Music! We can’t trim the tree without Christmas music and hot chocolate.”

  Dub had moved to the built-in cabinet. He fumbled opening a CD case. “I’ve got the music. Kar...Kar, you can make the hot chocolate and popcorn.”

  “Can I trust you guys alone?”

  “Momma, you have to follow the rules, and that means hot chocolate!” He turned back to Tyler. “I’ve never decorated a real tree. Once we made a tree out of paper. In the shelter someone brought a tree in but it was already done. We didn’t get to put anything on the tree, so I don’t know what to do.”

  Tyler’s lips curved, but not in his usual charming smile. This one was softer, sadder. “Dad and I had one job.” He lifted the tangled cord of Christmas lights. “To get the lights on the tree while Mom and Carol made the drinks and cookies. Once the tree lit up, we would all hang the ornaments—well, I would hang one or two, then wander off for something more active. Mom and Carol made sure things were perfect.”

  “O Come, All Ye Faithful” sounded from the speakers.

  Dub had his back to them, his fingertips on a framed picture of two small children standing in a Nativity scene, dressed as biblical characters. In a soft voice, he said, “Us boys did the lights every year and Cindy would have us rearrange them until they were just where she wanted them.” He turned to face them. “I never saw the difference, always looked the same to me, but it made her happy.” He started singing along as he got more photos out of the box of Christmas past and placed them on the mantel.

  Karly pressed her hand against the frame of the archway. She needed something to anchor her to the ground. This was the Christmas she had always dreamed of during the years she’d spent in a car or hotel with Anthony on the way to another town, another con.

  These were Dub and Tyler’s traditions, traditions that had been so painful for them they had packed them away, letting dust and cobwebs claim them. They were not her memories. She had no right to be here and intrude on their family rituals.

  Bryce stuck out his tongue, concentrating on every word Tyler said. The cord looped around his short arm as he used his left hand to drape the lights along the branches. She pulled her phone out of her back pocket. Even if they didn’t really belong to this family event, she wanted to get pictures of Bryce decorating the tree. There was no telling when they were going to have this opportunity again.

  The flash gave her away.

  “Momma!”

  Tyler leaned closer to him and wrapped the lights around Bryce and made a face. Bryce started giggling. She clicked several more. Dub laughed as he sat in the large wingback chair.

  Straightening, Tyler rolled his shoulders as if they were stiff. “Do you need help with the hot chocolate?”

  “Oh, no.” She had been so caught up in the moment she forgot about the drinks. “No, no, I can do it.”

  Tyler raised one eyebrow and glanced down at her son. Bryce made a face and gave her his worried look. “Are you sure, Momma?”

  Fist on hips, she glared back. “Just because I can’t bake doesn’t mean I’m completely lost in the kitchen. Get the lights on that tree and I’ll be back with the best cocoa you have ever dreamed of drinking.”

  With that last bit of false bravado, she spun on her heels and marched to the kitchen. Now, if she could actually pull it off, she would feel so much better. She had practiced the recipe she found in the box. So far it had been too thick or too thin, and who knew milk burned so easily? If mistakes were the best way to learn, this batch should be perfect.

  She came back after her second attempt with a tray full of steamy mugs and a bowl of popcorn.

  Dub slept with his chin resting on his chest. The tree held silver, red and green Christmas ornaments, each reflecting the lights in multiple directions. “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” played. Tyler had Bryce lifted on his hip, helping him put a silver icicle-shaped adornment deep into the center of the tree.

  Quietly she set the tray on the coffee table and lifted her phone out of her pocket to take another picture. How had she found herself in the middle of this dream?

  Tyler put Bryce on the floor and put his finger to his lips with a nod toward Dub. Bryce nodded back and smiled at her. She started adding ornaments to the branches.

  Tyler picked up his mug and one of the picture books now on the table. With a jerk of his head, he motioned for them to follow him to the tree, where he lowered himself to the floor. Bryce sat down next to him. When she didn’t follow right away, they both turned and looked at her, waiting.

  Unable to stop her smile, she got her drink and sat with crossed legs next to Bryce. “What are we doing?”

  “Before we finished we always took a moment to read the story of baby Jesus and enjoy our hot chocolate.”

  Bryce rested his elbow on her thigh, sipping on his drink. Her hand lay on his back, feeling the rhythmic beating of his heart. The Christmas story had never sounded so good. Tyler’s strong, steady voice made her think peace could come to the world. Even the little corner she lived in now.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Dub was awake by the end of the story. He moved to the tree. “There is only one thing left to do. Tyler, why don’t you lift Bryce up so I can hand him the star.”

  “Me? Really?” Bryce asked.

  “Yes, you.” Tyler picked him up and placed him on his shoulder. Dub handed him the star. Taking pictures helped Karly control the emotions that threatened to turn to tears.

  After the star topped the tree, she started gathering up the boxes and paper.

  “Momma, look! I found another box in the bottom of this box.”

  Laughing, Karly turned to Tyler. His smile went flat and he stood like a statue, frozen.

  She glanced at Bryce. Her son had already lifted the lid, and disappointment made him frown. He looked up at her. “It’s just a bunch of paper things.”

  He pulled one out of the box. A smiley-faced angel spun on a red string. The wings were made from two silver, small handprints sprinkled with glitter. On the back, large, lopsided letters spelled out Carol’s name and a date.

  Dub waved Bryce over to him. “Every year, beginning with Carol’s first Christmas, Cindy would make angel wings from all our handprints. Then she did it with Rachel for her first three years. Tyler threw a fit when he was eighteen. Said he was too old to be making handprints.” Dub held up an angel with large wings. According to the back, Tyler was six when he had made the ornament. “Do you remember that?” Dub lifted another out of the box, a tiny one made by the newborn Rachel. “Can’t believe Carol’s baby girl is heading into her teen years. The years just slip by, don’t they?”

  Bryce looked over the edge of the box. “Do you put them on the tree?”

  Karly glanced at Tyler. His jaw clenched. “Tyler?”

  He shook his head and
turned to the door without a word. The screen door slammed behind him. Silence echoed in the room, and Dub sighed.

  “Mom, did I do something wrong?” The wonderful moment had been sucked from the room as if someone had popped all their party balloons.

  Dub patted Bryce on the head with his good arm. “Oh, no, son. Some things we’re just not ready for tonight.”

  “Bryce, these bring back memories that make Tyler sad.”

  “These don’t go on the tree?”

  “Not tonight.” Dub handed her the box of childhood mementos. “I think Bryce and I should end the evening with a Christmas movie.”

  Bryce looked at Karly. “Can we, Momma?”

  “Sounds like a great idea.”

  “Why don’t you go check on Tyler? I want to make sure he’s all right, but if I go it would make it worse.” He shrugged. “We’ll just fight.”

  “Oh, no, I don—”

  “Please, Karly. I need to know he’s okay, and I can’t talk to him. With Bryce’s help I can get the movie. Right, Cowboy?”

  “Yes, sir.” Bryce hugged Karly. “Is Tyler missing his momma and sister?”

  She tightened her arms around him and kissed him on the top of his head. One day he would be a teenage boy taller than she was, with his own dreams and goals. She hugged him tighter for a moment. “Yes. I’m going to check on him. You good with a movie?”

  Dub started to list movies as Karly slipped through the door. There was no telling where Tyler had gone off to, but she hadn’t heard any of the trucks, so he had to be in walking distance.

  Turning to the steps, she came to a sudden stop. He stood right there, at the edge of the light, looking out into the darkness.

  “Tyler?” She laid her hand on the back of his shoulder.

  His muscles tightened.

  The sounds of the night mingled with his heavy breathing. What could she say to make this better? “I’m sorry.” Well, that was lame.

  He pulled away from her and sat on the top step. “No need to be. Is Bryce okay? I didn’t mean to upset him.”

  “He’s good. Your dad pulled out a collection of Christmas movies.”

  The night temperature had dropped to about fifty. Her sleeveless T-shirt wasn’t much coverage in the cool breeze. Instead of going in and getting her wrap, she sat next to him and rubbed her hands over her upper arms.

  Tyler sighed and took off his long-sleeve plaid shirt. He covered her shoulders, leaving him in a T-shirt. “What are you doing out here?”

  “Your father’s worried about you.” Her heart broke for him, but that wasn’t information that needed to be shared.

  “More like he’s mad at me for acting like a child and ruining the evening for you and Bryce.”

  “You didn’t mess up anything.” Through the door, she heard Bryce laugh at the movie. Bumping Tyler with her shoulder, she smiled. “See? They’re fine. I’m sorry we upset you. Do you want to talk about the handprint angels?”

  “No.” Since hung in the air between them.

  “Thank you for having Bryce help with the tree and the lights. I can’t explain how special this evening is for us.”

  “I’m glad.” His voice was husky. “You have a special little boy there, and he is going to grow up too fast, so memories are good.”

  No longer able to hold back, she reached for his arm. His skin was cold, now that he was only in his short-sleeved shirt. “Just like you were a special little boy for your mom. She would want you to be happy.”

  He pulled her closer. Tucking her hands between his hand and chest, with his other hand he gently rubbed back and forth over her wrist.

  “Every year of my life we made those handprint wings for her angels. It was one of the traditions she loved the most. Carol got married and we still did them. When Rachel was born, she became the center of the universe. When I was eighteen, I thought I was too much a man to make paper angels with my baby niece and sister. I refused.” Untangling their arms, he pulled away. He planted his elbows on his knees and rubbed his palms against his forehead. “I was a self-important jerk.”

  “Oh, Tyler, you were a teenage boy. Your mom understood that.” This time she put her arms around this grown man, thinking of Cindy’s baby boy. “She loved you.”

  A deep moan came from his chest. “That was her last Christmas.” Like a wall that had been causing too much pressure, he crumbled against her. His face pressed into her hair, and her skin became wet with his tears. Deep, wrenching sobs escaped from his chest. Each one tore her heart into a million pieces.

  Instinct had her rocking back and forth. She hummed softly while his grief poured out of him. There was nothing to say that could fix this kind of pain, but she laid her cheek against his hair and smoothing the small curl behind his ear.

  Her own tears fell. She loved this man, but she couldn’t go further. It wouldn’t be good for either one of them. So she pulled him as close as she could, praying to absorb some of the pain chained in the depth of his darkness.

  He quieted.

  Now she wasn’t sure what to do. From her experience, men didn’t like being vulnerable. It tended to make them angry. Angry men lashed out. She pressed her lips against his head, then slowly scooted away, giving him space.

  Clearing his throat, Tyler sat up and wiped his arm over his face. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” She stood. “I’ll get you something to drink.”

  He nodded, keeping his back to her. No fireworks or blame, just sadness.

  Tyler was so different from the other men in her life. He might not shout it out, and he even claimed to have some issues with his faith, but he had been raised to be a man of God, and it was obvious in so many of his actions. Surrounded by his scent, she pulled his shirt tighter around her. How could he not see he was full of goodness and love?

  Maybe that was just what she wanted to see—a golden boy who could sweep her off her feet and give her a happily-ever-after.

  That was dangerous territory. On that thought, she rushed inside, letting him have time to collect himself.

  * * *

  Tyler rested his forehead on his palms. His head hurt. He lifted his face and gazed across the front pastures. God, I don’t understand why You would take them both so early.

  John’s sermon from the previous Sunday ping-ponged around his head. God is our refuge. “That’s so easy to say, but how do you live it?”

  So many times his mom told him not to fear any troubles of this earth. He scrambled for any of the verses she used. How could he forget her favorite verses?

  Whenever he started worrying about something that was all-important to him at the time, she would tell him not to fear. He looked through the treetops.

  Even if the mountains slipped into the heart of the sea. First his mother had been his mountain, then his sister. How did he learn to live again once his mountains slip out of his life forever? The greatest mountain, his father, was crumbling. He’d lose him one day, too. What would he do then?

  “Tyler?”

  Her soft voice was a light in the dark. “Hey.” He turned to make sure she felt welcomed back. “You have hot chocolate? You are a true gift.”

  “Here’s your shirt.” She handed him his plaid button-down. She had her wrap on now. “It’s gotten colder.”

  He took the top from her and slipped it back on over his T-shirt. “We might actually have a winter this year.” Taking one of the mugs from her, he noticed she had something else tucked under her arm. “You are multitalented. What else have you got there?”

  “Oh, I told your dad you were fine. When I came back through with the drinks, he stopped me.” She sat down next to him and pulled a black leather book out. “He wanted me to give you this. He said you could keep it if you promised to use it every day.”

 
At first he couldn’t believe what he saw. His mother’s study Bible. Without touching the gift she held out to him, he looked back up at her. “Are you sure he told you to give this to me?”

  She nodded. “Is something wrong?”

  “No.” He took the Bible, running his hands over the worn leather before opening the pages. Her handwriting was scribbled along the margins, verses highlighted. He turned to Psalm 46 and read it out loud. “‘God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.’” He took a deep breath.

  Her warm hand slipped under his arm, holding him, giving him a level of comfort he had not allowed anyone to give him for ten years.

  Continuing to read out loud, he could hear his mother. “‘We will not fear though the earth should change, and though the mountains slip into the heart of the sea.’”

  The world was silent.

  “Tyler, that’s beautiful.”

  “It was one she used all the time when dealing with me.”

  “That’s the kind of mother I want to be to Bryce. Thank you for sharing that with me.”

  “Karly, I’m so sorry about earlier. I’ve never lost it like that—and over some stupid paper ornaments.” He tried to laugh it off, but his voice sounded hollow.

  “Oh, they’re not stupid.” Tears glistened in her compassionate eyes. “They are the kind of things I wish I had with Bryce, and one day he’ll be a teenage boy and won’t think they’re so cool. Your mother knew that, Tyler. Don’t let that guilt stay with you. You gave her so many wonderful memories of being your mom. They’re all over the house and in boxes. I think they’re even in the Bible she used as she prayed for you. You don’t doubt she loved you, do you?”

  “No, but I didn’t love her as much as she deserved.”

  “As one mother of a son speaking for another, she wouldn’t want that guilt around your shoulders.”

  Closing the book, Tyler touched the embossed name on the lower right corner. “I can’t believe my dad gave this to me.”

  “I think he’s just as lost and lonely as you are when it comes to the loss of your mother and sister. Maybe even crying together would help, at least talking about it.”