by Kim Redford
She walked slower, but there was nothing now between her and fate—also known as the Chuckwagon Café. She glanced up at the carved wooden café sign painted in red and white that hung from hooks above the boardwalk. Red-and-white-checked curtains filled the lower half of the windows. Someone had hand-painted colorful Christmas scenes on the upper half of the windows. Santa Claus and his gift-laden sleigh were pulled by brown-and-white paint ponies. Boisterous children wearing earmuffs and mittens tugged a green Christmas tree home from the forest.
“I wonder who painted these windows.” She pointed at the artwork. “It’s wonderful.”
“Morning Glory would be my guess. She’s talented enough to do about anything creative.”
“There’s lots of talent here, isn’t there?”
“You bet. You fit right in.” He opened the door to the café, setting off sleigh bells that jingled against the front door’s glass window. “Ready or not, here we go.”
She decided it was time to pull a Fern move to set the scene in her favor. She turned back, put a hand on Slade’s chest, raised up on tiptoes, and gave him a quick kiss for all the world—but particularly the patrons of the Chuckwagon Café—to see.
“Hold that thought till after breakfast.” He smiled as he held out his hand toward the interior.
She nodded in total agreement, then turned and stepped into the café.
Chapter 22
Ivy stepped inside the café to the sound of applause. She took a deep breath, feeling her heart thud hard in her chest. She wanted to back out, but Slade was right behind her and she couldn’t let him—or herself—down. What would Fern do? No doubt about it—she’d own this room. Ivy could do no less. She pressed the fingertips of both hands to her lips, hesitated as she looked around and made sure everyone had stopped eating and was watching her, then flung wide both arms as if showering everyone in the room with kisses.
As if that wasn’t enough of a reveal, she dramatically pulled open the jacket of Slade’s that she wore to show his belt buckle around her waist.
He chuckled as he snagged her close with a strong arm, and all the while the clapping grew louder, boots stomped the floor, and whistles filled the air.
Oscar got up from a table and sauntered up to them. He made a slight bow, then turned to the crowd. “Looks like our pie-baking bull rider finally done gone and got himself roped, tied, and tagged by the latest lovely lady in Wildcat Bluff County.”
Catcalls filled the air.
“Let me present Ivy Bryant of Wildcat Hall Park fame.”
Ivy gave a slight curtsy, felt the buckle head south, and quickly grabbed and held it in place.
While she waited for what came next, she took a moment to look at the long room with its smooth oak floors and high ceilings covered in pressed tin squares. Wagon-wheel chandeliers—old lantern-type globes attached to the outer spokes of horizontally hanging wooden wheels—cast soft light over round tables covered in red-and-white-checked tablecloths. The spindle, barrel-back captain’s chairs pulled up to the tables were full of folks. A tiger oak bar with enough dings and scratches to look original stretched across the back of the room with battered oak barstools in front and a cash register on one end. A window behind the bar revealed a kitchen updated with stainless steel appliances.
In one corner, a large cedar Christmas tree reached almost to the ceiling. Red-and-white candy canes, red-and-white-plaid bows, and twinkling red and white lights decorated the deep-green boughs. The scent of cedar battled with the tantalizing aroma of food for dominance.
“What are all these shenanigans about in my café?” A sweet, musical voice laced with steel cut through the raucous noise.
Silence quickly descended as everyone turned to look in the direction of the kitchen.
A small, silver-haired woman wearing a frilly, pink apron stood in the open doorway with her hands on her hips. She wore a red-and-white-striped, pearl-snap shirt with jeans and red boots. Two tall, strawberry-blond cowgirls dressed in similar attire stood beside her. A slim little girl about eight years of age with wild, ginger hair and big hazel eyes stepped in front of them. She wore a rhinestone-studded, long-sleeve T-shirt in bright green, jeans, and turquoise boots.
Slade cleared his throat, giving Ivy’s waist a squeeze. “Granny, you invited us to breakfast, so here we are. Ivy, I’d like you to meet my grandmother, mother, sister, and niece. Lula Mae. Maybelline. Sydney, and her daughter, Storm.”
“Good to meet you,” Ivy said.
“Not their fault we made a big to-do out of breakfast,” Oscar said. “It’s sort of a…well, heck, an unofficial Old Town get-to-know party for Ivy.”
When nobody else said anything, Ivy could feel her nerve start to break. How long could she maintain Fern’s stance in the face of what was not a warm welcome from Slade’s family? Maybe they were in shock or simply too busy to take time with introductions. Anyhow, she wanted to slink out the door, but she was made of sterner stuff. At the very least, she wanted food before she left, because by now she was starving.
“Are you the one who made Uncle Slade burn the cookies?” Storm asked as she moved forward with a defiant step. “He’s never done something dumb like that before—at least, nothing that dumb.”
“Storm, be polite. You know better.” Sydney reached out to snag her daughter, but she was too late. “Anybody can burn anything at any time. It happens.”
Slade groaned, glancing around at the diners as they joined together in laughter. “Guess that cat’s out of the bag.”
Oscar shrugged, holding out his hands to each side. “It might’ve slipped out when I wasn’t watching my tongue.”
“I want a closer look at her.” Storm stomped over and stopped in front of Ivy, looking her up and down with a calculating eye. “Guess that’s a fashion statement, seeing as how you’re a rock star. They say that’s how you landed him, being fancy and all.”
“Not polite,” Slade said, echoing his sister. “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.”
Storm ignored him. “You better be good to him. He’s my favorite uncle.”
“I’m your only uncle,” Slade said with a touch of humor, obviously replaying an old joke.
Storm pointed at Ivy’s belt buckle. “Can’t think why he’d give you that, but you better not lose it.”
Ivy was getting her back up until she realized Storm, as well as her family—and maybe most of the county—was afraid of Slade getting hurt by the newcomer who hadn’t been in town long enough for them to get to know her. They needed to be reassured, but she wasn’t sure how to do it.
“All the fuss going on, you’d think a guy never got a gal before.” Oscar gave Storm a sympathetic look.
“But Uncle Slade’s never—”
“It was before your time.” Slade pulled Ivy a little closer. “If you can’t be nice…if none of my family can be nice, then we’re going someplace else for breakfast.”
“That’d be dumb,” Storm said. “We got it all fixed for y’all in the party room.”
“Ivy, I’m sorry. We don’t have to stay.” Slade stepped back, tugging her with him.
She felt bad for all of them. She guessed they didn’t know what to do or how to react, since they’d been caught by surprise. Well, they weren’t the only ones. Slade had come on so strong she was still reeling from that and how she’d reacted so quickly to him.
“Don’t go.” Storm held up a small hand, then dropped it to her side. “Don’t be mad at me. It’s just…he’s my favorite uncle.”
Ivy couldn’t stand to see a little girl in pain, afraid she was losing the man who’d always been a father figure to her. “Isn’t he your only uncle?”
Storm cocked her head to one side, not sure if Ivy was joking or not, but still looking a bit hopeful.
Ivy knelt down so they were eye to eye. “I suppose you know
your uncle is a very strong, determined man.”
Storm nodded in agreement.
“Trust me. What I’m wearing is not a fashion statement. It’s an Uncle Slade statement. He actually likes this jacket and belt buckle. Can you imagine?” She rolled her eyes to show her disdain for Slade’s bad taste in clothes.
Storm glanced up at Slade, checking to see how he was reacting to Ivy’s words.
He grinned, rubbing a hand up and down Ivy’s shoulder with the too-big sleeve hanging below her fingertips.
Storm giggled at the sight. “Don’t rock stars wear anything they want? I can’t, but I’m a kid.”
“My sister’s the star—and yes, she wears whatever she wants. But I’m not on that level.”
Storm bunched up her eyebrows, looking up at Slade, then back at Ivy. “You’re not a rock star?”
“I hate to disappoint you, but I just design websites.”
“Uncle Slade, do you like websites?”
He laughed, ruffling Storm’s hair. “I like anything about Ivy, so she can do whatever she wants and it’ll make me happy.”
Storm nodded sagely, as if he’d just proven a point she’d been hearing from the adults around her. “So she’s got you on a leash, huh?”
“Yeah,” he said, grinning. “After breakfast, we’re going to Gene’s to buy one.”
“Forget the leash. He’s just funning you,” Ivy said. “We’re going to get me new clothes. Do you want to shop with us?”
“Really? May I?” Storm looked excited as she glanced up at Slade.
“Sure.”
“Can we dress him, too?” Storm turned to Ivy.
“Guess so. Barbie’s got her Ken.”
“Not so fast,” Slade said. “I’m fine. This is all about Ivy.”
“And Storm,” Ivy said. “I bet she could use something new to wear, too.”
“Yay!” Storm clapped her hands together.
Slade groaned even as he smiled at them. “I can see it’s going to be a long morning.”
“Best get some food under your belt.” Storm grabbed Slade’s hand, then shyly held out her other hand to Ivy.
Ivy felt warmth spread outward from her heart as small fingers slipped into her hand and squeezed her. This must be how Slade had felt when he won a belt buckle.
Storm tugged on their hands, urging them forward toward the rest of the family.
Still, Ivy had another hurdle before that one. She glanced around the room at the folks still watching with avid interest. She nodded at Oscar, then gave a thumbs-up…and received the same gesture in reply.
“Okay, folks,” Oscar called out as he headed back to his seat. “Show’s over. Let’s chow down.”
Ivy squared her shoulders and stepped toward the back of the café, where Slade’s family had disappeared through an open doorway.
Storm tugged her inside a room decorated much as the main café. A long table was covered in a red-and-white-checked tablecloth set with white stoneware, silverware, and cloth napkins. A red-white-and-green holiday floral arrangement added a festive touch to the center of the table. Spindle, barrel-back captain’s chairs were ready for use. An antique oak sideboard groaned under the weight of a variety of dishes covered to keep them warm.
As Slade shut the door behind them, Sydney hurried forward and enveloped Ivy in a big hug, which was followed by hugs from Lula Mae and Maybelline.
“Sorry we weren’t more welcoming,” Sydney said. “But we’ve been shocked to the core.”
“And worried about Slade,” Maybelline said. “This isn’t like him…not like him at all.”
“It’s not like me either.” Ivy glanced around the group. “I’m a cautious person, not like my sister, Fern.”
“Everybody adores her,” Lula Mae said.
“That’s true,” Ivy replied.
“We’re glad you’re here to take her place,” Sydney said. “Wildcat Hall needs a steady hand.”
Ivy chuckled at that idea. “Fern is a rolling stone, not a steady hand.”
“Exactly,” Lula Mae said, smiling. “Just what our boy needs.”
“I’m not a boy,” Slade grumbled. “Haven’t y’all done enough to undermine me since we got here? Now I’m just a boy.”
Storm giggled, squeezing Ivy’s hand. “He’s grumpy. Better feed him.”
“Food is always this family’s answer to everything.” Slade looked eagerly toward the sideboard. “But we’re hungry, so I won’t complain.”
“You’ve never complained about food a day in your life,” Lula Mae said with a smile.
“What makes you so hungry?” Sydney asked with a twinkle in her eyes.
“If I mention Dune Barrett, that hot fiancé of yours, would you know what I mean?” He grinned, giving back as good as he got.
“No idea,” she said innocently, but grinning big as can be.
“Welcome to the family.” Lula Mae grasped both Ivy’s hands and gave a good squeeze. “But you really don’t want to let him dress you anymore.”
Ivy joined the women in laughing, nodding as she pushed up the long sleeves again. “It’s just that—”
“Let me take that huge jacket.” Sydney started to slide it down Ivy’s shoulders.
“Wait!” Ivy clutched it to her. “I’ve had a slight wardrobe malfunction, so the jacket is necessary to—”
“Might as well give it up.” Slade sidled toward the sideboard. “Ivy’s got a rip in the seat of her pants.”
“Really?” Sydney laughed as she removed the jacket and draped it over the back of a chair. “One can only wonder how that happened.”
“Don’t wonder.” Slade growled as he plucked up a cover and sniffed at the food underneath. “Steak. Great.”
Ivy felt herself go pink at Sydney’s obvious guess at what had happened to her jeans. She was beginning to see that Slade’s family was just as straightforward and to the point as he was. The apple hadn’t fallen far from the tree.
“You’d think they’d been raised in a barn,” Maybelline said. “I swear they all have better manners than they’ve shown today.”
“You raised us, so what does that say?” Sydney laughed as she started to uncover the food.
“Hey, you got a starving kid here.” Storm sidled up to Slade.
He glanced down at her, chuckling. “Still too short to reach the food?”
“Still my favorite uncle?”
“Always.” He kissed the top of her head, picked up a plate, and started to dish up goodies for her.
Ivy stood back, looking at the beautifully presented food that was much as Slade had described it in bed—waffles, eggs, steak, hash browns, biscuits, and all the trimmings. She felt a little intimidated not only by the food, but by the family, because they were obviously so close-knit, and she was the outsider.
Sydney moved up to her. “It’s okay. Dune felt the same way at first. But we don’t bite—at least not much. And we want Slade to be happy.”
Ivy took a deep breath. She had to say this now and she had to say it fast, so she lowered her voice. “He’s a great guy.”
“But?”
“I just got here. I’m from Houston. And this is all so—”
“Overwhelming?”
“That, and—”
“Sudden?”
“Yes. I’m just not sure—”
“You’re sure,” Sydney said softly. “I can see it. Your mind just hasn’t caught up to that fact yet. I should know. Dune had his work cut out for him, but now…”
“How did you know?” Ivy rubbed the belt buckle, feeling the scratches that had been put there by Slade over years of wear and tear.
“Like I said, you already know. Just give it a bit of time. Trust me, Slade’s worth it.”
“Thanks.”
“If y’all are talki
ng about me, you can just stop.” Slade glanced over his shoulder. “Come and get it.”
Sydney laughed, then gave Ivy a wink. “Why don’t you chow down? We cook a mean breakfast. And everything looks doable on a full stomach.”
Ivy couldn’t argue the point. She was famished, so she quickly filled a plate and joined the others sitting around the table. She almost felt part of the Steele family—and even more surprising, she felt as if she wanted to be.
“Uncle Slade,” Storm said, picking up her fork before setting it down again. “Do you think Fernando’s hungry?”
Ivy watched everyone at the table freeze at those words. She hated to think what the little girl must be feeling about the lost bull.
Slade set down his glass of orange juice before he looked at his niece. “He’s a valuable bull. They’ll take good care of him.”
“But they don’t know his favorite food. And he can’t tell them.” Storm’s high, sweet voice broke on those words.
Slade got up, walked over to his niece, knelt beside her, and put an arm around her small shoulders. “Fernando’s a big, smart, tough bull. He’ll make it. But he needs you to stay strong for him, so you should eat.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“When is a Steele not hungry?”
“I keep thinking about Fernando all alone and lost and hungry. It makes my tummy hurt.”
Slade hugged her closer and kissed the top of her head. “Do you believe in Christmas miracles?”
“Yes…I guess.”
“Remember what you told me?”
“Fernando will be home for Christmas.” She picked up her fork. “He’s never missed his special holiday feed.”
“That’s right.”
“And he won’t this time. He thinks I’m kinda scrawny. Maybe I better eat or he’ll worry about me.” She raised a forkful of scrambled eggs.
“That’s our girl.”
Storm glanced up at Slade, tears shimmering in her big eyes. “You’ll see. Fernando’s on his way. He’ll be home for Christmas.”
Chapter 23
A week later, Ivy stood behind the front bar of Wildcat Hall, working with Alicia. She wore a teal-colored, pearl-snap shirt, Wranglers, a black leather belt with Slade’s buckle, and black boots with teal stitching. She’d become accustomed to the new clothes she’d bought with Storm’s approval. She’d even come to enjoy wearing them as she fit into the community. She’d also become more accustomed to living in the country and sharing meals with the Steele family, but most often she ate with Slade, because they really just wanted to be alone with each other whenever possible.