Jolene Navarro - Lone Star Christmas

He nodded but didn’t say anything. There was a gleam in his eyes, as if he knew she was confused by him.

She stood over the boys. Tomas had kicked the blanket off his feet. She tucked him back in. “Do you want me to bring lunch after church tomorrow?”

The right corner of his mouth went up. “No. I promise I’ll feed them.”

“Of course. I could still bring out some lunch, and maybe I can go see the site of the old town?”

“Jackie, without talking to my uncle I can’t promise you’ll be able to have the buildings. He might still want me to take them down.”

“I understand. But if I could at least see them and take some pictures for the records I’ve put together on their history.”

“You know, they might not even be standing.” He stuffed his hands in his jacket. “But if you’re sure you want to go, we can drive out there in the afternoon.”

“Thank you.” She turned to leave, trying to walk calmly as if she wasn’t running for her life, but the pounding of her heart could probably be heard across the room. “Bye, Ethan.”

The teen glanced up from his phone. “Bye.”

Max followed her out and stood at the edge of the porch, watching as she climbed into her car.

She started the engine but just sat there for a moment. Head bowed, she prayed. God, this is the closest I’ve been to these buildings. It’s been so heavy on my heart. Please open the Delgado family to seeing what I see. Not understanding her feelings for Max, she didn’t even know what to pray for when it came to him. She needed to stay focused on the buildings.

If she could make this work, this would be the year those buildings could be part of the Christmas celebration. The way her mother had envisioned it. Max’s mother, too.

It was all written out in her mother’s journals. The women had been working together against Max’s father and her father’s wishes. Now she was the one who had to make it right. Her father might grumble that he didn’t want her to do this, but when he stood together with her sisters, he’d see it was all worth it.

She glanced in her rearview mirror as she drove off. Max stood alone.

Just like the day her father took her away from the dance. It had been total selfishness on her part. She’d rather have seen the hurt in Max’s eyes than the hatred she’d known would have been there if she’d confessed to him the reason his mother lost control of the car.

Selfish coward.

How different would their lives have been if she’d listened to her father? It wouldn’t have taken any time to put her toys away instead of leaving them in the car.

If her father, sisters and Max knew the truth, they would all hate her. She had destroyed two families. Please, God, let me at least finish the dream our mothers started.

She could never make it completely right, but if she preserved these buildings that meant so much to them, it would honor their memories .

Chapter Four

Standing up from working on the fence, Max tried to roll his shoulder, but the pain was too much. It was taking him longer to recover from broken bones than it had in the past. Age was not a bull rider’s friend.

He went to his truck and dug around in his bag until he found the painkillers. Pills were not his first choice for controlling the pain. Too many cowboys started relying on them to live. Depending on anything but himself was a no go for him.

After throwing back three pills, he swallowed and glanced around the barn area for the boys. Ethan was standing with the two horses, but he didn’t see Tomas or Isaac anywhere. He glanced at his watch and was surprised to see it was way past one o’clock. Jackie should have been here. She didn’t seem like the kind that would be late.

“Ethan. Where are the boys? It’s time to head back to the house.”

“Yeah.” He pointed to the barn. “They were in the old tac—”

A scream came from the loft area. BAM! Something hit hard.

“Tomas! Max!” Incoherent yelling from Isaac followed.

With Ethan right behind him, Max raced into the barn. Tomas was in the middle of the floor. Shattered pieces of wood surrounded the small body. He wasn’t moving.

Falling to his knees beside the still figure, Max put his hand on the slight shoulder.

Tomas cried out. Okay. That meant he was breathing. That was good. Max said a silent prayer of gratitude. He was alive and conscious.

“Tomas. Where does it hurt?” He removed his work gloves and scanned the area for blood as he assessed the boy.

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