Page 31 of A Cowboy Home for Christmas
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Savi stops, forcing me to turn and face her. “She’s your brother’s widow.”
“I didn’t intend to fall in love with her.”
“Yeah, but you did and that’s some sick twisted love.”
She tries to storm past me, but I catch her arm. “I need you to hear this.”
“I don’t want to.”
“You’ve spent your career traveling the world and I’m happy for you, but you didn’t see the other side of what was happening in Gunnar’s house.”
“It’s easy to blame him when he’s not here to defend himself.”
“Alison’s baby is his defense.”
Savi’s mouth twitches. “What do you plan to do? Step into his shoes? Marry her, and raise his kids?”
“Gunnar was a great dad.”
Savi jaunts out her chin and folds her arms over her chest. “I know he was.”
“When he showed up. He was awesome on Christmas Day, unwrapping gifts and playing with the toys. But he missed Christmas Eve and Boxing Day. He was the life of the part on their birthday, but he couldn’t be bothered to help plan, or decorate, or pick up a fucking cake.”
“So what? Papa didn’t do all those things.”
“Pa took care of the house. Pa was there every single night, every morning, and all day long. Pa would stop any chore on the ranch if we needed him.”
“What’s your point?”
“I’m not stepping in and taking over where Gunnar left off. Because I watched movies and drank hot coco on Christmas Eve. I picked up the birthday cake. And not because I had the hots for my brother’s wife. Fuck no.”
Savi grunts.
“It started by relieving mom from a huge list she offered to do for Lauren to compensate for Gunnar’s lack of involvement. It wasn’t long and I realized Gunnar wasn’t pitching in, and shit needed to get done.”
The toilet seat incident pops into my head. I didn’t know what had been going on until that day. I hadn’t paid attention either. I’d blindly dropped off groceries, or mowed the lawn, not realizing my parents had been doing those chores all along. I hadn’t thought much of it. Until Lauren broke down in front of me. Over a toilet seat my fucking brother could’ve hired someone to fix. If he’d cared enough to put in the effort.
“You haven’t been here. I have. I didn’t intend to fall in love with her. I didn’t want to. She was my brother’s wife. But he was knocking boots with a slew of other women, and I was hanging out with his family. It just”—I sigh—“happened.”
“You didn’t have to act on it.”
“I have never said a damn word about my feelings. Not to anyone. You’re the first person. For years I refused to acknowledge whatever I was feeling. I pushed it all deep, deep down and did what my family needed.”
I step toward her. “But he’s gone, Savi.” She shivers when I touch her arm. “I fucking wish he wasn’t. I’d live a thousand lives containing my feelings if he were alive. But he’s not. I am. Lauren is. Clara and Lark are. All I’m asking, is you stop criticizing and be present. Watch and listen without judgement. We are all grieving Gunnar. Lauren included.”
She opens her mouth. I expect her to retaliate with a snarky jab. Then shuts it quickly. “Fine.”
“Yeah?” I raise an eyebrow.
“Yes.”
“I reckon we’re going to have a great holiday.”
“Peachy.” I don’t miss her sarcasm.
Now if I could just figure out what the hell spooked Lauren. We find them in the main lobby.
“Uncle Barker, look what we got!” The girls flash me a paw shaped cut-out hanging around their necks on a lanyard.
