Just then, she walked through the kitchen, heading for the loading dock. She had her jacket and gloves on and was going on her break, but she didn’t even glance over at him as she sailed past.
Shoot. What’s going on?
“Supper break, boss, er, uh, Del?”
“Is this gonna be a problem for you?” Del asked, flicking his chin toward the back door.
“No. We’re just—”
“Keep your personal business personal,” advised Del. “You got fifteen minutes, son.”
Lucas threw his apron off over his head and hurried to the back door. When he stepped outside, there she was, hands on the iron railing, looking up at the sky.
“Wishing on another star, Kitten?” he asked softly.
“No point,” she answered, glancing at him, then quickly away.
So we’re back to this. He stood next to her, putting his hand directly next to hers so their pinkie fingers brushed. She moved away, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Did I do something wrong?” he asked.
“You never told me who I remind you of,” she evaded.
“My sister.”
“Your sister,” she said in a soft, defeated voice.
Lucas took a deep breath and turned to face her. He’d just said she reminded him of his dead sister. He was going to need to explain that answer, and he owed her the truth.
“The people in this town treat you like garbage, Missy. And man, I hate that so much. But, by some miracle, you didn’t turn hard. It’s not like you’re super confident, but somehow you’re still hopeful, and I like that about you so much. So, yeah. You remind me of her. Because she was still hopeful. I bet even at the end she was probably still hoping Roy’d change.”
Missy lifted her gaze, staring at him with sad, glassy eyes.
“There is so much goodness in you, Missy. It’s like the goodness meant for a hundred people all got delivered to your heart. I just want to be near you. I just want to keep it safe.”
She winced and shut her eyes tight for a second before opening them up again. They were still shiny, but angry now. Really angry.
“Stop it!” she demanded in a half-sob. “I can’t do this.”
He felt like she had slapped him.
“What do you mean? What can’t you do?”
“I can’t be your bus stop or your—”
Bus stop? “What the hell are you talking about?”
“A bus stop. A place where you hang out for a while before the bus comes and you leave.”
“What are you—I’m not waiting for a bus, Missy. I’m not leaving.”
“Yes, you are. You said it last night. You said you weren’t staying here forever. You’re going to leave to make something of yourself.” A fat tear rolled down her cheek. “You’ll take what you need just like every man does, and then you’ll go. It’s the same. I get it! I’m the bus stop, not the destination. And then the bus will come, and you’ll get on and go and you’ll never look back—”
“STOP!” he yelled, his eyes burning and his nostrils flaring with sadness and pain and fury. He ran his hands through his hair then fisted them by his sides. “That is not true, and it’s not fair. I’m sorry other guys dumped on you and used you and didn’t stick around to figure out how damn wonderful you are, but you’re not my bus stop, you crazy-making woman. You are the destination. You have to believe that.”
“Why? Why do I have to believe it?”
“Because it’s true, damn it. Because you’re searching my eyes like they hold the key to the universe, and you can see it’s true. I’m in this for your heart. I’ll keep it safe. Don’t you see that?”
“Safe! Ha! For how long? For tonight? For a week? For a month? Certainly not forever. One day you’re going to get up and go. And ‘safe’ will be as big a joke as Missy Branson! And I’m going to get hurt, Lucas!” She sobbed softly, then lowered her voice to a whisper. “This time it’s going to hurt!”
“You know what sucks, Missy? People have treated you like trash for so long, you believe it. You buy it. You don’t think you deserve someone who treats you decent, who sees your goodness, who loves you, who wants—”
Her quick intake of breath and wide, shocked eyes made him stop speaking. What? And then it occurred to him. He was yelling at her. For a while now. An ugly ex-con who once beat someone’s brains in was yelling at her. Probably scaring her to death. Scaring Missy. His Missy.
“Hey…” He took a deep breath. “I—I’m sorry I yelled at you.” Mouth still ajar, she stared back at him, saying nothing, so he continued on. “But you know what, Missy? If you can’t trust me, if you can’t even try see yourself the way I see you…? No chance in hell this woulda worked out anyhow.”
He gave her one last look of frustrated longing, but her face was frozen in shock, so he turned and walked back inside, leaving her alone just like she wanted.
Who loves you.
Who loves you. Who loves you. Who loves you.
Who loves…you.
You, Missy.
She stared at the kitchen door in a daze before turning back to the railing and clutching it in her gloved hands. He’d yelled that he loved her. She didn’t care if he yelled at her every day for the rest of her life as long as those were the words he yelled.
He loved her?
She smiled into the darkness at the words that changed everything.
Her ridiculous wish—the wish he’d told her to make on a star last Friday night—had suddenly, unbelievably, come true. She’d clenched her eyes shut that night and before she could stop the thought from forming in her head, she’d heard the words: I wish for someone to love me.
He’d been right, after all.
Wishes do come true at Christmastime.
She took a deep breath of the fresh, cold mountain air, wondering how those blinking Christmas lights in the distance had gotten so much closer in a week. He loved her.
Her smile faded as she thought of the hurt on his beloved face.
She’d been so untrusting, so suspicious. All she wanted, all her life, was to belong to someone who would want her, love her, and when it was finally in front of her, she’d doubted it.
How could she make it up to him? How could she let him know how much she loved him too?
Christmas was the thing I missed the most…
She clapped her hands together, a smile spreading across her face as she stared at the Christmas lights brightening the darkness. She was taking the day off tomorrow whether Stu liked it or not. Heck, she’d quit and go work somewhere else if it came to that. Her first priority was to go back to the Target in Bozeman.
Missy had some serious Christmas shopping to do.
Lucas hated the way they’d left things on Tuesday night, hated that she hadn’t come in to work on Wednesday and hated that today was Christmas Eve and she’d barely glanced at him since walking into work at eleven.
The only thing he was marginally glad about, pathetically, was just being near her at all. But that did little to suppress the deep ache in his heart which left him distracted and breathless and despairing.
He didn’t know what else he could have done to make things right with Missy.