Page 71 of Love’s Silver Bullet

Except those kisses in the barn over a month ago.

Dropping back into his cot with a grunt, Clint pummeled his pillow several times like he probably wanted to pummel Jake, shoving it under his neck as he settled back in. “Why the devil don’t you go sleep in the big house like Finn wants you to?” he groused. “You’re practically family anyway, and then we could all get some sleep.”

Practically family. Jake stifled a grunt. Yeah, that was the problem. Only his “practically family” had a far more sisterly bent than Sheridan’s.

Except in his body.

Reality wrenched his eyelids closed with a weight as crushing as the regret that constricted the ribs in his chest. And “practically” sure wasn’t family.

Nor could it ever be.

“God help the woman you marry,” his mother had screamed at him more than once, and that was all he was trying to do.

Help the one woman he would marry.

If he could.

Rolling onto his side, Jake thought of all the letters they’d written over the last month—his one a week to her three and four—and he could honestly say he’d never been happier with his relationship with Sheridan.

Or more conflicted. Every letter revealed deeper insight into a woman he already loved, only serving to intensify a friendship that made him love her all the more. At least her absence alleviated some of his guilt, allowing him to enjoy her from afar without the worry of intimate involvement. He buried another grunt.

Who was he kidding? Between the dreams where she lived in his arms … to the nightmares that lived in the dark recesses of his mind, he felt the intimacy deep in his soul, and it scared the daylights out of him.

The nightmares had been gone for years, and then started up all over again at the beginning of the summer when Sheridan first kissed him at the range. After that, one or two that haunted his brain like a warning until he made up his mind to stay as far away from her as he possibly could. He’d been fine then—in his sleep, at least—where he could kiss her and love her the way that he wanted.

And now he couldn’t even do that.

Dark memories wouldn’t let him.

A shiver whispered through him despite the warmth of his body, reminding him she’d be home for Christmas in only two months. He swallowed hard, well aware he’d have to distance himself all over again.

She wouldn’t like it.

And neither would he.

But guilt would have its way.

And he, a semblance of peace.

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

I don’t want to leave. A long, wispy sigh drifted from Sheridan’s lips as she glanced around the cozy candle-lit parlour, where she’d just spent the last day and night of her Christmas vacation with family.

Her holiday had been almost perfect. Aside from the long train ride to and from, every single moment of three wonderful days at home had been filled with family and friends, food and fun.

She’d baked cookies with Shay, Libby, and Maggie, and exchanged laughter and presents with Sophia and Kathy Jean. Dinners were filled with giggles and tease over her brothers’ antics while the table was filled with the bounty of Gert and Angus’s kitchens.

On Christmas morn, Uncle Finn read his traditional Christmas reading from the Bible, his rich voice husky and low with the true import of the season: Gratitude for the birth of the Savior and the love of family and friends.

Sheridan pressed a kiss to Shaylee’s head while her little sister lay sleeping on her shoulder on the couch after a busy day of laughing, reminiscing, and playing games. The Christmas tree still stood in the corner for one more day, glass ornaments twinkling in the flickering light of oil lamps, candlelight, and a waning fire in the hearth.

Uncle Finn played chess with Aiden on one side of the large stone fireplace while Jake, Dash, Blaze, Gert, and Angus were embroiled in a rousing round of poker on the other. Next to Shay on the sofa, Aunt Libby and Maggie chatted quietly with Libby’s mother, Maeve, who was sipping a late-night tea as she relaxed in Uncle Finn’s chair.

Truly an almost perfect holiday.

Her gaze flicked to where Jake was laughing as he raked in a win, and the ache in her heart made it pretty clear where the “almost” came in.

Although Jake was considered family and had been an integral part of every dinner, game time, and church attendance, never once did he seek Sheridan out on her own. Oh, he smiled and teased and winked like he used to aplenty, almost reverting back to the easy camaraderie they’d once shared before she turned sixteen.