The Kidnapped Christmas Bride

Chapter Ten

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They arrived at Bigfork at a little after midnight, the high full moon reflecting white off Flathead Lake as they drove south fifteen miles on Highway 35 to the little town of Cherry Lake.

If they kept going another eighteen miles they’d come to Polson.

Trey’s mom, Catherine Cray, had spent her early years outside Cherry Lake, a member of the Bitterroot Salish tribe that formed part of the Confederated Salish and Kootenai Tribes of the Flathead Nation.

All but the northern tip of Flathead Lake was part of the extensive Flathead Indian Reservation, and when Trey’s mother’s grandparents died, they left an old cabin on the lower slope of the Mission Mountains, and a couple acres of land to their daughter, hoping she’d return and raise her sons on the land of her ancestors.

Trey’s father hadn’t minded taking the boys to the cabin with its spectacular view of Flathead Lake for fishing trips, but he wasn’t interested in his wife’s native ancestry. She wasn’t even half Salish and he wasn’t about to raise his sons as native this, or that.

Trey hadn’t been to the cabin in years, but until recently Cormac visited regularly, and apparently just this past summer Brock had brought Harley and the kids for a ten-day vacation, using the time to rebuild the old stone fireplace, install a new stove in the kitchen, and make a number of smaller repairs.

“Know where we’re going now?” Trey asked McKenna as they drove past the turn-off to sleepy little Cherry Lake, a Flathead Lake town that came alive in summer with tourists and the colorful fresh fruit stands dotting the road selling crates of Lamberts, Rainier and Hardy Giant cherries.

“I had a suspicion when you took 83 north,” McKenna answered, shifting TJ to free her arm, which had gone numb sometime in the last half hour. “When’s the last time you were here?”

“It’s been a long time, but you were here with me. It was a couple years before TJ was born.”

“I remember,” she said softly. They’d driven from Marietta for a long weekend at the cabin in late September. Most of the tourists were gone and the local kids were all in school. It jad felt like they had the lake and town to themselves. “We had fun.”

He shot her a swift glance, expression somber. “We did,” he agreed. “And we will again.”

The last words were spoken so quietly she wasn’t sure he’d even said them. She glanced at him but his attention was on the steep private road that wound back to the cabin.

*

The keys to the Cray cabin were right where they’d always been, tucked high up the hollowed leg of the wooden grizzly cub gracing the cabin’s front porch. Trey unlocked the cabin’s front door, flipped on the light switch and was gratified to see light flood the open main room, a combination of living room, dining room and small kitchen.

The one and a half story log cabin had been built in the late 1940’s and had just the bare minimum in maintenance until Cormac started paying regular visits ten years ago. The cabin was still rustic, with stacked log walls and exposed trusses in the vaulted ceiling but everything looked clean and weather proofed.

Trey did a quick walk through, flipping on lights in the two downstairs bedrooms and turning on the heater. The windows in both bedrooms were original, and weren’t double paned. Once the wooden shutters were removed, the bedrooms would be a lot colder. He hoped the big cedar chest in the master bedroom still held all the sheets, quilts and comforters. They were going to need to make up the beds and get extra blankets on them, too.

He returned to the truck where McKenna and TJ were waiting. “Got the heater on and the lights on,” he said. “But we’ll need to get the beds made up.”

“If you’ve got clean sheets, I can do that,” she said, shivering as she handed TJ over.

“The cedar chest should be full of them.”

McKenna lifted her full skirts high as she followed Trey up the path to the cabin. Her heels weren’t designed for hiking up a rutted dirt path. “I don’t suppose there are any clothes here? I’m not going to want to put this dress back on tomorrow.”

“I’m sure we can find something for the night, and then tomorrow we’ll go shopping in Cherry Lake, and if Cherry Lake doesn’t have it, Polson or Bigfork will.”

*

McKenna quickly made up both twin beds with sheets and blankets in the smaller bedroom, before taking a sleepy and disoriented TJ to the bathroom where she stripped off his pants, shoes and socks and then tucked him into one of the twin beds in his shirt.

Trey made up the queen size bed in the master bedroom while she put TJ to bed. She’d slept in the master bedroom the last time she was here. It seemed as if they’d spent most of their time at the cabin in bed.

But she wouldn’t think about that. There was no point dwelling on the past. She hadn’t agreed to let TJ spend Christmas with his dad so she and Trey could rekindle a romance. She wasn’t interested in romance. She’d like to be friends with Trey, though. And she’d like to see TJ and Trey have the kind of father-son relationship they both craved.

*

McKenna could hear Trey moving around in the central room, bringing in firewood and stacking it next to the big stone fireplace.

She lay on her side in the narrow twin bed listening to him open and close doors and arrange the firewood.

It was strange lying here, listening to him work. It was one in the morning. Wasn’t he tired?

Or was he out there working because he felt all wound up, too?

McKenna turned onto her back and stared at the ceiling. She wasn’t sure how she felt, being back at the Cray cabin. This was a place shared by the five Sheenan brothers. They never invited outsiders. It was just for family. When Trey had brought her here that September, they were still newly engaged.

Now she was back and her emotions were all over the place.

It might not have been a good idea, coming here for Christmas.

But then, this Christmas wasn’t about her, and what she wanted. This Christmas was about Trey and TJ. This Christmas was about them having a special holiday together.

Restless, she flipped her covers and quilt back, floorboards creaking beneath her bare feet as she went to his bed. Even though Trey had left the wooden blinds closed, slivers of moonlight slipped through the cracks and streaked the log frame.

TJ looked small in the twin bed, his cheek nestled deep into the down pillow, his hair dark on the crisp white pillowcase.

She leaned over and lightly kissed his warm cheek, before tugging the covers higher on his shoulder.

She loved him so much. From the beginning she’d tried to do everything right. She wanted him to have everything a little boy needed. Halloween costumes and Christmas traditions. Swim lessons, summer vacations, Saturday matinee movies.

But despite her best efforts, she hadn’t been able to give TJ everything. He didn’t have a daddy that was there, and it was the only thing he asked for.

Again and again and again.

A daddy to take him fishing. A daddy for cub scouting. A daddy for wrestling and hugging and loving.

A lump formed in her throat. She’d agreed to marry Lawrence for TJ’s sake. It was a terrible thing to admit. She didn’t need the company as much as TJ needed a father figure.

She’d thought Lawrence was the answer. At least, she’d hoped he was the answer. But Lawrence and TJ had never really clicked. She could admit that now. She could see that she’d tried to force them to like each other, planning activities to help them get along. She’d thought if she tried hard enough eventually they’d grow fond of each other but it hadn’t happened. Lawrence, a forty-year old bachelor when he’d begun dating McKenna, couldn’t relate to a headstrong little boy who wasn’t interested in learning cribbage and chess. TJ wanted Lawrence to box and run and wrestle. He wanted physical activity not quiet games.

Lawrence criticized McKenna’s parenting.

McKenna privately pleaded with TJ to do the activities Lawrence enjoyed so they could all be happy together.

/>   The more pressure McKenna put on TJ to cooperate with Lawrence, the more resistant TJ became to all of Lawrence’s suggestions. Lawrence thought it was a problem. But TJ wasn’t a problem and he wasn’t spoiled or a little monster. He was just himself…active, healthy, busy, smart.

McKenna loved his sense of humor. She loved his personality. She didn’t want him to be anybody but himself.

The only times she and Lawrence argued was over how she was raising TJ.

Now, asleep, TJ looked impossibly angelic, and nothing like a little monster. She lightly placed one last kiss on his soft cheek. She could feel his warm breath as she straightened.

Her boy. And Trey’s boy.

TJ’s lashes fluttered. He opened his eyes and looked up at her. “Mommy, what are you doing?” he asked, his voice rough with sleep.

“Checking on you.”

“Where are you sleeping?”

“In here, with you. Now go back to sleep.”

“Good night, Mommy.”

“Good night, sweet boy.”

He closed his eyes and yawned. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

*

It was late, after two in the morning, but Trey couldn’t sleep in the big bed in the master bedroom.