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Hometown Christmas Gift
Kat Brookes
A second chance for a first love. Her little family needs healing… Could he be the answer to her Christmas wish? Home for the holidays, widow Lainie Dawson never would have thought to ask old love Jackson Wade to help her troubled child. But when her grieving son forms a bond with the handsome rancher, ignoring Jackson goes from challenging to impossible. He let his first love go once before, but this Christmas, he’ll hold on to Lainie with all his heart.
A second chance for a first love.
Her little family needs healing...
Could he be the answer to her Christmas wish?
Home for the holidays, widow Lainie Michaels never would have thought to ask old love Jackson Wade to help her troubled child. But when her still-grieving son forms a bond with the handsome rancher, ignoring Jackson goes from challenging to impossible. Jackson let his first love go once before, but this Christmas, he’ll hold on to Lainie with all his heart.
Bent Creek Blessings
KAT BROOKES is an award-winning author and past Romance Writers of America Golden Heart® Award finalist. She is married to her childhood sweetheart and has been blessed with two beautiful daughters. She loves writing stories that can both make you smile and touch your heart. Kat is represented by Michelle Grajkowski with 3 Seas Literary Agency. Read more about Kat and her upcoming releases at katbrookes.com (http://www.katbrookes.com). Email her at katbrookes@comcast.net. Facebook: Kat Brookes (https://www.facebook.com/kat.brookes.5).
Also By Kat Brookes (#u1ef75c4f-0b8e-5820-b241-a6371155e262)
Bent Creek Blessings
The Cowboy’s Little Girl
The Rancher’s Baby Surprise
Hometown Christmas Gift
Texas Sweethearts
Her Texas Hero
His Holiday Matchmaker
Their Second Chance Love
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk).
Hometown Christmas Gift
Kat Brookes
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-09924-0
HOMETOWN CHRISTMAS GIFT
© 2019 Kimberly Duffy
Published in Great Britain 2019
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Note to Readers (#u1ef75c4f-0b8e-5820-b241-a6371155e262)
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Text to speech
“Do you think we could do this again sometime?”
“Hmm...I’ll have to think that one over a bit,” Jackson said, pretending to contemplate her question. “Getting you back behind the wheel would mean I would no longer be needed to take you and Lucas here and there. I’m not so sure I’m ready to give that up.”
“I would think you would be relieved,” she told him with a smile.
“You’d be wrong.”
Her smile softened with his admission. “I’m realistic if anything. I know I have a long way to go before I’m going to be comfortable behind the wheel, but I want my independence back. Want to be the kind of mother Lucas deserves.”
His expression softened even more. “Your son is already blessed to have you for his mother, whether you drive or not. He’s just too young to really appreciate what he has, but that will come. Right now, he’s still working through a lot of pain and grief.”
Reaching over, she covered his hand with hers, giving it a squeeze. “I’ve missed you, Jackson Wade.”
Dear Reader (#u1ef75c4f-0b8e-5820-b241-a6371155e262),
I really hope you’ve had a chance to read the first two books in my Bent Creek Blessings series—The Cowboy’s Little Girl and The Rancher’s Baby Surprise. Hometown Christmas Gift is the third and final book in this Love Inspired series, giving the last of the Wade brothers, Jackson, his very own happily-ever-after. It’s a story of healing and second chances for both my hero, Jackson, and Lainie, his first love. It’s about turning to one’s faith to help carry us through the hard times and knowing that God has a plan for us all. It’s also discovering that not all Christmas gifts are ones you can hold in your hand, like the gift of forgiveness, the gift of hope and the gift of happiness. Things that both Lainie and Jackson gift each other with in Hometown Christmas Gift. I hope you enjoy reading their story as much as I enjoyed writing it. For updates on my upcoming releases, you can go to my website at www.lindseybrookes.com (http://www.lindseybrookes.com) or follow Kat Brookes on Facebook. The link to my homepage is https://www.facebook.com/kat.brookes.5 (https://www.facebook.com/kat.brookes.5).
Happy holidays!
Kat
But let him ask in faith, nothing wavering. For he that wavereth is like a wave of the sea driven with the wind and tossed.
—James 1:6
This book is dedicated to my cousin
Kathy Dillan and to my good friend
Melissa Huddleston. Two women very
near and dear to my heart. I’m so grateful
to have you both in my life.
Contents
Cover (#u9a855163-19ba-5221-8b13-139687d0d911)
Back Cover Text (#uebcd1a8d-f43b-5f69-991f-73ca93d6b3ad)
About the Author (#u3300f203-b064-5bbd-8ffb-2d964460ca06)
Booklist (#u2e7485f5-4c59-5b95-93a3-25a5f8ddbe19)
Title Page (#uedf124ef-fe25-5ff9-8e97-f93c8f0caec9)
Copyright (#u2a10e799-c616-58ab-b6ed-8e022305235d)
Note to Readers
Introduction (#u7e6d89a6-84e8-54ec-8f7b-b426844e52f8)
Dear Reader (#u93d32c88-4f0a-559b-9bd2-6a9a5b3fad4e)
Bible Verse (#ud42bc674-15c6-5655-a23b-80bf335d09c3)
Dedication (#u45ac6c60-fe3d-534d-972b-ada480121868)
Chapter One (#uda8e1488-6851-55cf-af48-84f67ebc0d60)
Chapter Two (#u594cbf25-2474-5a85-b0d0-306ee79c6825)
Chapter Three (#ubaaaa7ba-9abc-5d08-bab2-069fac1d40ec)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#u1ef75c4f-0b8e-5820-b241-a6371155e262)
Lainie Michaels lifted the snow-dusted doormat again, thinking she might have missed the house key her brother was supposed to have left there for her. Nothing. She tried the door again, but it was locked up good and tight. Straightening, she blew on her chilled fingers to warm them and then slipped her gloves back on. At least she’d had the forethought to purchase winter coats for her and her son before moving back to Wyoming.
“I don’t want to be here!” Lainie’s seven-year-old son, Lucas, bellowed behind her, stomping his tiny foot in defiance.
Lainie turned from the locked front door and forced a smile as she prepared to face yet another one of her son’s emotional thunderstorms. “Honey, you’ll like living here in Bent Creek.” At least, she prayed he would. More than anything, she wanted her son to be the sweet, loving little boy he used to be before she’d taken his joy away.
“It’s cold here. I wanna go home,” he replied, his tiny brows furrowed into a deep-set scowl.
Early December in Bent Creek could be cold. Especially when her son was accustomed to California winters, but it was a little soon for any real snow accumulation. Lainie’s gaze moved past Lucas to the large, white flakes coming down from the wintry sky above. Then again, maybe it wasn’t. Cold or not, while living in California, she’d missed the beauty Wyoming winters could bring, the sight of the distant mountains and vast land surrounding her brother’s place, the home she had grown up in, glistening with newly fallen snow. Especially during the holidays.
Looking down at her son, Lainie suddenly felt overwhelmed by emotion and exhausted from having gotten up before dawn that morning to catch their flight. And then, after a three-hour layover in Denver before finally landing in Rock Springs, Wyoming, the nearest airport to Bent Creek, they’d had to take a taxi to her brother’s place a good fifty-minutes away.
“We are home,” she told Lucas. Or, at least what would be their home until they found a place of their own in Bent Creek. Even if she changed her mind about staying there permanently, which she hadn’t, they would have no way to leave. The taxi that brought them there had already driven off. They’d sold their two-bedroom condo in downtown Sacramento, sent a few boxes of their personal items ahead to her brother, Justin, a week prior to flying home and then placed the remainder of their things in storage until they found a home of their own and could have them brought out.
“This isn’t my home,” her son said, his voice cracking with anger.
“It is now, sweetie,” Lainie said softly, praying that she’d made the right decision in coming there.
“You take everything away!” her son sobbed, tears of frustration and anger now filling his hazel eyes. “Even my dad. I hate you!” Turning, he sprinted off the porch and disappeared around the side of the house.
Lainie ran over to the railing and leaned out, watching as Lucas ran away from the house, no doubt to the fort his uncle had built for him two summers before. “Lucas!” she called after him, hot tears blurring her vision. It wasn’t the first time he had run off, and it wasn’t the first time her baby boy’s words had left her feeling broken. Her son hated her, and she couldn’t even blame him for it. He’d lost his father, and it was all her fault. A lump formed in Lainie’s throat as the memory of that night surfaced, making it hard to swallow. No amount of “I’m sorrys” could ever make up for the pain she had caused her little boy. She’d never forget the look of confusion on his face when she’d told him his father was gone, and then fear and bone-deep sorrow that slowly settled in as her son processed her words. It had nearly broken her. A mother’s words were supposed to wrap their child in love and make them feel safe, not shatter their entire world.
The sudden sound of hoofbeats had Lainie turning, a small gasp leaving her lips as she took in the sight of a man seated astride a beautiful buckskin gelding. He came to a stop just on the other side of the porch at the far end of Justin’s house. Although he wore his cowboy hat low and the collar of his leather duster lifted to block the icy, whirling flakes, she’d recognize those dark green eyes of his anywhere.
“Lainie,” Jackson Wade greeted her, his voice so much deeper than it had been when he’d spent time at her house when they were growing up. Jackson had always been her brother’s best friend and also her heart’s greatest weakness.
Her stomach felt as though she’d just taken a steep drop on a roller-coaster ride. The last time she’d seen Jackson had been in the hospital in Las Vegas after he’d been injured while bull riding at Nationals. Only Jackson hadn’t known she’d been there, because she’d not been able to step beyond the open door. Just seeing him lying there, eyes closed, machines surrounding him, had been more than she could take. Especially since she blamed herself for his being there. Had lived with the self-imposed guilt of it for years. Oh, why did their paths have to cross at that very moment?
Lainie turned away, looking off into the direction her son had run, trying desperately to collect herself. “Justin’s not home,” she said as she hurried to swipe a poorly timed tear from her cheek with her gloved hand. Jackson Wade was the last person she wanted to see her in such an emotionally vulnerable state. In fact, she’d prefer not to cross paths with him altogether, now or ever. Unfortunately, “ever” wasn’t in the realm of possibility, considering they were both going to be living in the same small town.
“I know,” he replied as the sound of booted footsteps treading up the porch steps came from a few feet behind her.
She cast a fretful glance back over her shoulder as he strode toward her, her attention drawn to his slightly off-kilter gait. A limp she had caused, she thought to herself, guilt making her turn away once more. She couldn’t bear to see the man who had broken her heart. The man she had in turn broken physically.
A gentle hand came to rest on her shoulder. “Lainie,” he said, his voice filled with concern.
Jackson, she thought in silent response. Her first love. An unrequited love. But one her heart had never quite gotten over. Even after she had married Will Michaels, a kind, supportive man, the handsome cowboy standing behind her had still maintained a special place in her heart. One of the reasons she had done her best to come home to visit only when she knew Jackson would be away, running stock to the various rodeos. And then after her husband’s death not quite two years before, she had avoided Bent Creek altogether. For her son, who was not dealing well with his grief. She thought that she needed to keep his routine as unchanged and normal as possible. And, if she were being completely honest with herself, it was also because of the feelings she still harbored for Jackson. Feelings she should have been able to put to rest after she’d gotten together with Will, but her stubborn heart had refused to cooperate. Staying away from Bent Creek, away from Jackson, had been the only way she could think of to assuage the guilt she felt.
