Page 2 of His Christmas Star
“Just left my daddy’s room, and he asked about you. Since I couldn’t say how you were, I thought I’d stop by and find out for myself.”
Nash’s daddy was an old rancher who now lived in Wellspring’s nursing home. He was eighty-three when he had a stroke and lost the use of his left side. He moved into a nursing home, and Nash kept the ranch, minus the horses, hands, and cattle. He lived in the house, but being a sheriff in a small town left him little time for anything else.
“You can tell Daddy Nash I’m just fine, and thanks for asking,” I replied before I headed to the next stall where Heaven’s Shetland pony, Beaker, was waiting for his breakfast.
“Are you really just fine, though?” Nash asked from behind me.
I forced myself not to react. I had to stop reacting to everything Joe said with anger. Sure, he made me madder than a wet hen, but I didn’t have to prove it every time. Maybe if I didn’t react, he’d stop coming around. I snorted. Fat chance of that happening. He’d been hanging around for the last twenty years. He was five years older than me but no years wiser. At least that’s what I told myself. The truth is, I’m no match for Joe Nash. Not my five-foot two-inch frame, not my piss poor family situation, and not my damaged emotional psyche. Nash should walk away and be grateful that I encouraged it. He never did, though. He kept coming back every time I told him to get lost.
The worst part was the crush I’d had on him since I was a moony teenager. By the time he was eighteen, he was tall, dark, and handsome in a way that had me fanning myself like a southern belle on a hot summer day. He wore his hair in a shag under his white Stetson, had the most piercing pair of hazel eyes that could read all your secrets, enough scruff around his cheeks and chin to make you wonder what it would feel like when he was kissing you, and a physique shaped by hard work that looked as good in a western shirt as it did shirtless.
Dammit, Tobi! You aren’t helping the situation. Engage blustery indignation.
I spun around and shifted my left hand to my hip. “You know the answer to that question, Nash. You also know I’m better off alone today, so how about if you make like Houdini and disappear?”
I returned to my work of feeding Beaker, speaking gently to the pony who was slowly learning how to be a first rider horse. I always joked that he needed a red harness that said, ‘My First Rider’ on it, but Caleb hadn’t bought him one so far.
“It’s been twelve years today,” Nash said as though I wasn’t aware of the date. “A dozen years is a long time, Tobi.”
“Wow, thanks for doing the math for me. I would never have figured it out using my two college degrees.” I patted Beaker on the head and closed his stall door behind me. “Why am I always looking at the person responsible for his death on the date of his death? Do you enjoy coming out here to torture me?”
His sigh was loud and heavy when it reached my ears. “Tobi, you know I had nothing to do with Cody’s death.”
“I know no such thing.”
Okay, so that wasn’t true. I did know he had nothing to do with my twin brother’s death, but he knew more than he was saying.
“You can blame me for his death if that’s how you get through today, Tobi. I won’t take offense, but I wish you’d try to find some happiness in life the other three hundred and sixty-four days of the year instead of holing up in your little cabin to protect yourself from ever getting hurt again.”
My snort was loud and unamused when it left my mouth. “Oh, this is rich. Jo-Jo Nash is lecturing me about putting myself out there when he’s hunting the same hole.”
“It’s Sheriff Nash now,” he said between clenched teeth, and I did an internal fist pump. Nothing like calling a six-foot four-inch-tall guy Jo-Jo to get a rise out of him. I wanted to rub my hands together in glee. I was on a roll today. I wonder who else I could tick off just by existing.
“Sheriff Nash,” a voice said from the doorway of the barn. “Is something wrong?”
Heaven stood in the doorway, holding Eden’s hand. Her left arm was held tight to her chest with her special brace that protected her paralyzed arm and shoulder during the workday. It was the only way she could function without pain.
“Everything is fine, Heaven,” he said, turning around to woo her with a smile. I rolled my eyes. Whatever. “Hello there, sweet Eden. Where’s your friend Poppy Rose?”
Nash knelt on the barn floor, and Eden toddled over for a hug. Nash enveloped the sweetheart in his arms. “Thanks for the hug, darling,” he whispered, standing up with her.
“Poppy Rose is at kindergarten now, but since it’s Thanksgiving break, she’s enjoying the day with Caleb. Hard to believe she’s old enough for school, right?” Heaven asked, walking into the barn and glancing at me. “Are you okay, Tobi?”
“Yep,” I answered before I got on with my chores as though the three of them didn’t exist. I wasn’t okay. I hadn’t been okay since that day twelve years ago when my twin brother went deer hunting and never returned. You don’t expect to lose your only sibling when your life is just getting started. We were in our first year of college and had our whole lives ahead of us, then just like that, he was gone. I still hadn’t figured out how to move on.
Was I happy? I asked myself that question every day, and my answer was always the same. I was happy with my work. I’d been given a lot of opportunities with the therapy school I wouldn’t have gotten had I left Wellspring for greener pastures, but my personal life had been stuck in neutral for twelve years.
I snuck a glance at the man behind me. He was wearing his signature bootcut Wranglers that sat perfectly at his waist and hugged his backside like a denim hammock. He wore the traditional brown canvas sheriff’s jacket and his white Stetson on top of his bison brown hair. His hat was always spotless, and I wondered how he did that as sheriff. Maybe he had twenty of them and just rotated them out, paying to have them dry cleaned once a week. I bit back a snort at the image of Nash waltzing into the dry cleaners with twenty hats in his hands. Why he didn’t wear a black one was beyond me. It was probably something ridiculous likethe good guys wear white hats, Tobi. I rolled my eyes internally at the thought.
“I’ll pass your hellos onto daddy, Tobi,” Nash said as he strolled out the door of the barn.
I didn’t turn or even acknowledge his words. Like I gave two bits what he did. I saw his daddy once or twice a month anyway when I snuck the three C’s—cookies, chocolates, and cigars—into the nursing home for him. Daddy Nash and I mutually agreed not to tell the sheriff about our arrangement. Joe couldn’t complain about what he didn’t know. That was the way I looked at it. I paused for a moment while tossing seed to the chickens. How long had it been since I went to the nursing home? I worked my eyes back and forth in my head until the answer came to me. It had been over a month. I intended to take him some goodies at Thanksgiving but never got there. I made a mental note to do it tomorrow. No way in hell was it happening today.
“Everything okay, Tobi?” Heaven asked from behind me, and I lowered the bucket to the floor and brushed off my hands.
“Yep, just fine. How about you?” I asked the tiny woman before me. People referred to me as small my entire life, but even I was bigger than Heaven McAwley.
“Finer than frog’s hair, as Beau would say. I thought maybe we could go inside and have some coffee.”
