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A Texas Christmas Wish Page 3
A Texas Christmas Wish Read online
Page 3
“Cool.” Bryce went over the hidden trash container and opened it with the same motion Tyler had used, staring wide-eyed, as if he had discovered a treasure.
“Don’t let me forget to take that out. We don’t want to compact rotten bananas.”
Bryce nodded as if he understood what Tyler said. “Okay.”
In a few long strides, Tyler had the bags of their clothes back in hand, with Bryce right behind him. As he moved under a large archway, he looked back at her. “This is the family room. The dining room and living room are on the other side.”
There was so much to see. Two cream-colored sectionals anchored the spacious room. A million shades of blue pillows invited her to sit and get lost in all the comforts. There were pictures on every surface. Pictures of people, horses and airplanes. An ornate pool table sat in the far corner next to a wall of glass doors. This house invited you to stay and enjoy living. Three double doors led outside.
She hurried to catch up with Tyler and Bryce, who had disappeared down a dark hallway. She glanced at the wall. More pictures. Many of a young girl and boy riding horses or playing sports. She had never seen so many award plaques in one place. They stretched down the long hall, covering the wall along the way.
Tyler’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “Sorry about the overkill. Carol always called it Mom’s Hall of Mortification.”
“Is this it?” Bryce stood in front of a door. Tyler nodded, but didn’t make a move to open it. Bryce looked up at the man beside him and adjusted the straps on his shoulder. He glanced at her, then back to Tyler. “Can we go in?”
Drawing in a deep breath, Tyler nodded, still staring at the door. Oh, this is his sister’s room. “Hey, you know what? We can put everything in the family room and figure this out later. Maybe there is another room I’m supposed to move into.”
“No, it makes sense you staying here. You and Bryce are next to each other, and my dad’s room is close.” He turned to point to the opposite wall at the end of the hall. “That’s his door.”
He still didn’t seem all that sure about it. Of course, he also wanted a trained medical professional, not an uneducated single mom.
“Go ahead. Open the door, Bryce. You do the honors. It’s your mom’s room for now.”
Her little man switched the box to his shorter arm and turned the knob. For some reason she held her breath. When was the last time anyone was in this bedroom?
“It’s locked.” Bryce glanced up at Tyler.
This was getting awkward. “I’ll just take our stuff to the fam—”
“No, no. The key is up here.” He set the bags down and went to the door at the back of the hall. Stretching up, he ran his fingers along the top of the door frame. “Here you go.” He handed the Allen key to Bryce. “I’ll go get more of your boxes.”
“Are you sure?” She ended up talking to his back. “Don’t take out the large green tub. It stays in the car.” She wasn’t sure he had heard. Bryce fumbled a bit with the key, then turned the knob before flashing her one of his I-did-it smiles.
She took a deep breath and smiled back. It was just a door, an ordinary door, so why did she feel so heavy walking through it?
“Wow! Mom, the bed is huge and purple.” He tossed the bags on an overstuffed armchair. “Look how big the windows are, and it has a seat.”
She stepped into a fifteen-year time capsule. Every teenage fantasy of being a normal girl with a family and school friends came to life in the room. Purple and silver ribbons hung from the corner of the curtain rod, the silk mums were coated in a fine layer of dust. The cream-colored walls were covered in poster frames that held collages of a high school girl’s memories. Sports, dances, horses and local and international mission trips were highlighted in each of the five poster frames.
“Who are all these people?” Bryce was studying the pictures.
“This is Carol, Tyler’s sister. All the other people are her friends. She’s also Rachel and Celeste’s mother.” Carol hadn’t been much older than she when she had been killed in a car accident, leaving behind two small daughters, a young husband and a whole town that loved her and still missed her. She looked at the laughing girl who’d thought she had a lifetime in front of her. Somehow she had managed to accomplish more in one short life than Karly dreamed of doing.
“Oh, look at these, Momma.” He picked up a model horse from the purple dresser. “These are cool. I hope my room’s not purple, though.”
“Here’re some more boxes.” She heard Tyler’s voice from the hallway, but by the time she had gotten to the door he was already gone again.
“Momma, what’s that word?”
She went back into Carol’s room. “What word, baby?”
“Momma, I’m not a baby.” Then he pointed to a poster, purple, of course, on the wall. “Go An-gore-as! What’s an Angora?”
She shrugged. “Not sure. We’ll have to ask Tyler.”
“Can I see my room?” He lowered his head and whispered. “Please, anything but purple.” He opened the door to the bathroom that connected the rooms. “If I don’t like it, your bed is big enough for both of us.”
“Yes, it is.” She just wasn’t sure if there was room for them. In this home. This substantial house was big enough for them and Tyler, though.
“Cool, Momma! Look.” He tilted his head back to look at the ceiling, slowly turning. Airplanes of all sizes and shapes hung from the clear wires. Two-tone blue, with a touch of red, made the room inviting and all boy. Baseball and football equipment packed the spaces between the books on the shelves. Posters of Texas teams and colleges covered the wall.
The strangest was the leather halter and bridle hanging on the headboard. Bryce started going through the closet, pulling out some sort of sports jersey with a large nineteen on it. “Do you think it’s Tyler’s?”
“Hey, what have you got there?” Tyler stood in the doorway, leaning on the frame.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” She took the shirt from Bryce and put it back. They’d intruded into his world; now he found them digging through his closet.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Childress.” Her little boy took a step back, his head down.
Towering over her small son, Tyler reached past him and pulled out the shirt. “You can wear it. It’s my basketball shirt from my seventh-grade year. We got new ones, so coach let us keep them.” He slipped the jersey over Bryce’s head. “In just a few years, you can be a fighting Angora.”
“I can’t play basketball.” He held up his short arm. “I only have one hand.”
“You only need one hand to dribble.” He rubbed Bryce’s dark hair.
Karly crossed her arms and stopped herself from saying anything to Tyler. She wished he would stop telling her son all the things he could do. She was sure he meant well, but he didn’t understand all the complications.
The joy in her son radiated from his grin. “So what’s an Angora?”
This time Tyler laughed out loud. “A goat with long, wavy white hair and curled horns.”
She had to laugh at Bryce’s horrified expression. “A goat?”
“Yeah, a goat, but most people don’t even know they’re goats. They’re different and they’re tough, able to survive through harsh conditions.”
Maybe she had more in common with the school mascot than she thought.
“What kind of conditions?”
“Sorry, he’ll ask you questions all day.” She came up behind her son and pulled him against her. “Bryce can stay with me. This is your room.”
“Hasn’t been my room for years.” He ran fingers through his damp hair and looked around. “The times I came home, I slept in the bunkhouse.”
Bryce’s big eyes went even wider. “Bunkhouse? Like with cowboys?”
“Yep. Speaking of which, since you live on the Childress R
anch now, we need to find you a cowboy hat and boots.” He stepped into the closet and pulled a black hat from the top shelf. “Let’s see if this fits.” The cowboy hat wobbled a little bit on Bryce’s head, but it wasn’t too bad.
“It fits, Momma. Look! I’m a cowboy!” He turned back to his new champion. “Can I stay in the bunkhouse, too?”
“Sorry, partner. Have to be nineteen to live in the bunkhouse. You can stay in my old room and be a cowboy in training.”
Karly’s phone vibrated. Looking at the name, she saw it was the call she had been expecting. “Hi, Pastor John.” She noticed Tyler stiffen, his jaw muscles flexing. “Yes, we’re here. Tyler’s here, too. I picked him up at the airport.” He raised an eyebrow. She was not going to explain the almost head-on collision over the phone. “What do you need me to do? Okay, see you in a while.”
Sliding the new phone back into her pocket, she took a deep breath. “Your father will be here soon. They’re turning off the highway now. Are there any more boxes in the car?”
“Nope, got them all. Left the tub. Why is no one calling me about my father?”
Her stomach knotted. She hated conflict. “I don’t know. Maybe because you’d been out of the country and they weren’t sure when you’d be here.” She shrugged. “I’m going to make sure your dad’s room is ready. Tyler?”
He had started bringing boxes into the room. “Yeah.”
She swallowed. “Pastor John said to tell you he was glad you were here, but...to remind you that your father needs to be in a stress-free environment.”
Anger clouded his blue eyes, making them darker. “What does he think I’m going to do?”
With a shrug, she headed for the door. “I don’t know. Bryce, come on.”
“Momma, please. I want to help Mr. Childress.”
“Hey, partner. Call me Tyler. With my dad coming home, it’ll get confusing if you call us both Mr. Childress. Anyway, I’m really not much older than you. Just ask my dad.”
She still saw a bit of a mischievous look in his eye, ready to cause trouble.
“He can stay and help me. I need those strong muscles.”
Bryce giggled.
“Okay, but be careful. You just got the braces off your legs.” She looked at Tyler, hoping he understood her concern.
He nodded. “We’ll be careful.” He looked back at her. “So why didn’t you tell them I ran you off the road and crashed into a fence?”
She pulled at the end of her ponytail. “It’s not something we need to talk about now or over the phone. You’ll have time to explain it to your dad if you want to tell him.”
With one last glance at her son, she nodded and headed to the master bedroom. She couldn’t even imagine how that room would look in a house that already overwhelmed her.
Her stomach hurt. What was she going to do if this didn’t work out? Tyler was hard to read. One minute she felt he wanted to get rid of her, the next he was being all sweet to Bryce and helping them unpack.
And what had she signed up for? She had no medical experience outside of taking care of Bryce. Not only that, she didn’t even know how to cook real food. God, if this is going to work, I really need You. I feel so unprepared for this job. Not to mention Tyler Childress...
Chapter Three
Tyler set Karly’s last box down next to his old closet. He stared at the door to the bathroom, the door that connected the two rooms. A numb spot started spreading through his chest. Simple, walk through the bathroom and into her room.
Carol’s room.
It was just a room. A room full of memories from a girl that no longer lived in this world. Gone.
At some point his father should have packed away all her old stuff and gotten it out of the house.
He looked down at the small boy now playing with an old box of Lego pieces he’d found forgotten in the closet. What was he going to do about his former brother-in-law’s project? Karly and Bryce obviously needed a safe place to stay. As a single mom with a special needs child, she would be limited in her job opportunities. Especially here in Clear Water.
He crouched down next to the dark-haired boy. “Need some help?”
Bryce tucked a block between his elbow and ribs in order to attach another with his hand. “Nope. I got it.” He dug through the box and picked a yellow brick.
Up close, Tyler noticed the scars on his forehead wrinkled with concentration. He totally understood John and his dad wanting to help these two, but they weren’t even from the area. At least, he’d never seen her before. And he’d remember her.
What did anyone really know about Karly? He doubted anyone had thought to run a background check on her. Or vetted her skills. Tyler needed to know that when he went back to Colorado, his father would be in good hands with a professional.
Bryce slumped over, his head landing on the soft rug next to the bed. In a panic, Tyler swept him up and moved as fast as he could to his father’s room. “Karly?” He made sure to keep his voice calm and quiet.
“I’m right here.” She stepped out of the master bathroom. Her eyes went a bit wider when she saw Bryce in his arms.
Rushing to her, he met her in the middle of the room. “He was playing. Then, without any warning, he just fell over.”
Long, graceful fingers gently pushed the fine wisp of hair that had fallen across her son’s forehead. The smile and soft chuckle from Karly eased his pounding heart. It couldn’t be anything dangerous if she was happy. When she raised her warm eyes to look at him, his breath stopped somewhere around his heart.
He had seen more beautiful women than he could count, but something about Karly Kalakona made the world stand still. Not good. His world needed to keep moving.
He swallowed and looked down at the tiny being in his arms. He had been around a great deal of children, many of them sick, some even dying, but he’d never actually held them so close. “He’s okay?”
“Yeah, he does this when he doesn’t get his nap.” She shrugged, then leaned in to kiss the small forehead. “With the packing, driving in the storm, the excitement of the plane and meeting you, then a new house and a room of his own, he just crashed once he sat still for a minute.” Her hand went to his lower arm. “I should’ve thought of it before he passed out. Do you want me to take him?”
“No, I’ve got him. I’ll take him back to his room.” Making his way down the hall, he sensed Karly close behind him.
“Are you sure it’s all right for us to be in these rooms?”
He nodded to the bed. “Like I said earlier, I haven’t slept in here for years. Turn down the quilt, and we can tuck him in.”
After laying Bryce down, Tyler took a step back, allowing Karly to settle her little man in a bed that looked too big for him.
Turning away from the mother/son moment, he left.
He had to shut off the memories of his sister climbing into his bed while their mother read to them, and sometimes their dad would join them. Every night ended with prayers. He shook his head, clearing out his thoughts. He was such a loser, going down that road. It was a dead end.
“Tyler? Karly?” John’s voice called out from the laundry room.
Tyler moved to the kitchen area. “We’re here. Putting Bryce to bed.” His father was home. Remember, Tyler Childress, nothing is worth upsetting the old man over. He might need God’s help with this one, not that he expected any break from that quarter. Some habits were just hard to kill.
He took a breath and looked behind John. “Where’s Dad?”
John ran his fingers through his hair. His usual open expression was closed and clouded with something Tyler couldn’t read.
“Tyler, this is not going to be easy, but I need you to stay calm and not start any fights.”
Stepping into the garage, he saw a frail man struggling to get out
of the SUV and leaning heavily on the door. That could not be his tall, robust father.
“Dub, I asked you to wait until I got help.” John’s easygoing voice sounded exasperated.
“I. Am. Not a...kid.”
Tyler heard some other words mumbled, but he couldn’t make them out.
“Dad?” That man could not be his father.
He had been on an international flight when Maggie, their neighbor, had called him with the news. She’d told him it was only a small stroke. When his father had gotten on the phone, he hadn’t even wanted Tyler to come home. He had sounded almost normal during that conversation. “Is everything okay? Has something else happened?”
Dub grunted and John sighed. “When he gets tired, it’s harder for him to speak or move.” John gave Dub a pointed look. “It’s been a long day, and arguing about everything doesn’t help. Rest, Dub, you need to rest.”
Turning away from Dub, John pointed to the back of the ranch vehicle. “Tyler, there’s a wheelchair in the back. Can you get it out?”
“Sure.” He moved without much thought, the cold concrete on his bare feet keeping him in the present. This weak man could not be his strong, hearty, stubborn father. Was he worse than he had been led to believe? Was he going to die sooner rather than later? He had been told his mom had a year. A year that turned into three months.
He glanced over the backseat as he pulled out the wheelchair. What if his dad didn’t get better? Thunder rumbled in the distance, the storm passing on to the east.
“What’s...all the...mud?”
“Sorry, Dad. I’ll clean it up. Karly’s car got stuck. I helped her out. I took off my boots before I went in, so I didn’t track mud in the house. I’ll get her car washed and the floor cleaned.” He wasn’t a twelve-year-old anymore, so why did he start acting like one around his father?
“Karly is... She’s...she’s a good girl.” Dub made some growling noises. “Be...be nice.”
The subject of the conversation appeared in the doorway. Miss Sunshine herself.
“Welcome home, Mr. Childress.” She glanced around the garage, appearing nervous.