Travis's Gift (Riley's Pride #3)- Sandra R Neeley Page 0,1
and see her heart breaking. Slowly she’d nodded and stepped over to the couch to place the packages she held onto its cushions. “I understand,” she said quietly. She’d turned to walk out of the door and stopped beside Scotty who stood glaring at Travis with an angry expression. “Now, don’t open your gifts until Christmas, okay? Just because Travis doesn’t want to celebrate, doesn’t mean you can’t. Most of those are for you. Merry Christmas, Scotty.” Libby had hugged Scotty and kissed his cheek before walking out of their house and quietly closing the door behind herself.
Scotty had turned on him then. “What the hell is wrong with you? Libby didn’t deserve that!”
“It’s none of your business,” Travis answered, the Tiger that lived deep inside him going back and forth between threatening him and clawing at his insides to go after Libby and make things right.
“It is my business! She took care of me the whole time you were gone. The whole time! And she never once made me feel like I wasn’t welcome. She missed you as much as I did. She loves you. We both waited for you to come home! We prayed every single day and planned for when you’d get here. And for what? So that when you did finally get home you could treat us all like crap?!”
Travis stood there, so lost in his own misery that he had no idea if the man he used to be even existed anymore. “I am not the male she loved. I am not the male you remember. I never will be again. Better for you both to figure that out now,” he said without any emotion at all.
“You’re right. The Travis I looked up to all my life was a good male. You? You’re nothing,” Scotty said, snatching up the packages that Libby had left on the sofa and stalking toward his room.
Travis allowed his body to sink down into the recliner he’d been holding onto for support. He took a deep breath and sat there, looking around the lonely living room. His eyes fell on a small box that had tumbled off the sofa and onto the floor. Struggling to get to his feet, he finally walked over to the sofa and managed to pick up the box without falling on his face. He read the tag, handwritten in Libby’s loopy script. ‘For my favorite grumpy Santa.’
Travis opened the box and lifted out a Santa mug. Only Santa was Satan, dressed as Santa. One corner of his mouth lifted up, threatening to break into a smile. But then his face reflected the pain he felt at remembering how they’d gone out of their way to find the most inappropriate holiday gifts for each other when they were kids. He still had the Frankenstein Nutcracker she’d given him somewhere around here. Slowly, so to be sure that he didn’t lose his balance, he made his way to the kitchen and reverently placed the Satan Clause mug in the cabinet with the rest of the coffee mugs. Then he made his way to his bedroom and after flopping down on his bed, allowed himself to fall into the vat of self pity he’d lived in since returning home without his leg — since returning home less than a whole male.
Travis’s head shot up and he looked around the kitchen as the coffee pot signaled its completion of the pot he’d put on. He’d been so lost in the memory that he’d forgotten for a moment, exactly where and when he actually was. Examining the mug in his hand once more, he reached for the coffee pot, poured himself a cup, and lifted it into the air slightly. “Merry Christmas, Libby. May this one heal your heart.” Quietly he made his way out to the front porch and chose a rocking chair to rest in while he sipped his coffee and watched the moonglow on the fresh snowfall in the quiet predawn hours.
~~~
Libby stretched her arms above her head and slowly moved her body this way and that, trying to get the blood flowing and wake herself up. She got out of bed and slipped her feet in her old, ratty slippers so she didn’t have to walk on the cold floor. After a quick trip to the bathroom, she wandered bleary eyed into the kitchen to start the day’s first pot of coffee, before returning to the bathroom for a quick shower.