Page 27 of The Holiday Gift

“I hope Addie was good.”

“She’s never any trouble. Really, we love having her around. She always seems to set a good example for my kids.”

“Even Barrett?”

She relaxed a little. Talking about their children was much easier than discussing everything else.

“He can be such a rascal when Addie’s there. I don’t get it. He teases both of them mercilessly. I try to tell him to cut it out but the truth is I think he has a little crush on her.”

“Older women. They’re nothing but trouble. I had the worst crush on Maggie Cruz but she never paid me the slightest bit of attention. Why would she? I was in fifth grade and she was in eighth and we were on totally different planets.”

The only crush she could remember having was the son of the butcher in the last village where they’d lived in Colombia. He had dark, soulful eyes and curly dark hair and always gave her all the best cuts when she went to the market for her family.

That seemed another lifetime ago. She couldn’t even remember being that girl who once smiled at a cute boy.

By the time Chase pulled up to the Star N a few moments later, her hormones had almost stopped zinging around.

He put the truck in Park and opened his door.

“Since Addie’s asleep, you don’t have to come in,” she said quickly, before he could climb out. “You don’t really have to walk me to the door like this was a real date.”

Why did she have to say that? The words seemed to slip out from nowhere and she wanted to wince. She didn’t need to remind him of the awkwardness of the evening.

He said nothing, though she didn’t miss the way his mouth tightened and his eyes cooled a fraction before he completely ignored what she said and climbed out anyway.

Everything between them had changed and it made her chest ache with regret.

“Thanks, Chase,” she said as they walked side by side through the cold night. “I had a really great time.”

“You don’t have to lie. It was a disaster from start to finish.”

The grim note in his voice made her sad all over again. She sighed. “None of that was your fault. Only mine.”

“The old,it’s not you, it’s meline?” he asked as they reached the door. “Really, Faith? You can’t be more original than that?”

“Itisme,” she whispered, knowing he deserved the truth no matter how painful. “I’m such a coward and I always have been.”

He made a low sound of disbelief. “A coward. You.”

“I am!”

“This is the same woman who woke up the day after her husband’s funeral, put on her boots and went to work—and who hasn’t stopped since?”

“What choice did I have? The ranch was our livelihood. Someone had to run it.”

“Right. Just like somebody jumped into a river to save a villager in Guatemala while everybody else was standing on the shore wringing their hands.”

She stared at him. “How did you... Where did you hear that?”

“Hope told me once. I think it was after Travis died. She also told me how you took more than one beating while you were all being held hostage because you stepped up to take responsibility for something she or Celeste had done.”

She was the oldest. It had been her job to protect her sisters. What else could she do especially since it was her fault they had all been taken hostage to begin with?

She had told that cute boy she had a crush on the day they were supposed to go to Bogota so her mother could see a doctor and that they would probably be leaving for good in a few weeks.

She had hoped maybe he might want to write to her. Instead, he must have told the psychotic rebel leader their plans. The next time she saw that boy, he had been proudly wearing ragged army fatigues and carrying a Russian-made submachine gun.

“You’re not a coward, Faith,” Chase said now. “No matter how much you might try to convince yourself of that.”

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