by Liz Isaacson
It wasn’t going to be Christmas all year. He needed to give Holly Ann the space she needed to be the Christmas Festival chairperson, and he couldn’t be upset when she had a job to do. She’d told him as much over a month ago.
The holiday fair had started over the weekend, and after returning the clipboard, he went into the triple wide gymnasium that could be sectioned off by huge canvas drapes that lowered from the ceiling. Today, though, the dividers were all up to create one massive space where vendors of all kinds had set up for the fair.
Ace loved wandering up and down the aisles, looking at anything and everything. The sweets always took up the aisle against the north wall, and Ace always started there. Then he could purchase a box of the peppermint squares he loved and snack on them while he shopped.
His mother loved the peppermint squares too, so he bought an extra box and started his pilgrimage up and down the aisles. He didn’t normally spend a lot of time in the boutique booths, or the ones with lots of wooden decorations. The only time he had was when he was trying to meet a new woman.
Since he wasn’t looking for a girlfriend this year, he left the ladies to their shopping and he focused on finding a few gifts for his family members. He found the cutest bandanna for Benny that could be threaded right onto his collar. He bought a dark blue one with the words best friends embroidered on it.
He bought a tub of sno-dough for Lincoln, though Bear would likely fillet him alive for doing it. He could just hear the grizzly bellowing at the huge mess the dough made. Just watching the kids at the trough in front of the booth told Ace that Lincoln would love the moldable, flaky dough, but that it was definitely messy.
He found a pair of wool socks for Judge, who loved to wear them year-round, something Ace did not understand. He didn’t have to understand it to give a gift though, and he shifted his bags as he stepped over to a booth selling pocketknives.
Every cowboy should have a knife with them at all times, and Ace had gotten his first pocketknife from his father at the age of eight. He’d sat with him on the back porch as his father taught him how to open it, how to clean it, how to keep it sharp.
He spent a long time in the booth, asking questions and picking through knife after knife. He wanted a really good knife for Ward, and a really good knife for Bear. When he’d finally picked out the two he wanted, the gentleman who’d been helping him for half an hour asked, “Would you like any engravings?”
“Engravings?”
The man pulled out a laminated sheet and showed him the options. “We can do any of these as symbols. Most people put them down on the bottom of the handle. We can do names up to nine letters as well, depending on the knife. For either of those, you can do nine letters.” He looked up at Ace with eager eyes.
“Is that a bear?” Ace asked, pointing to the brown bear in the top corner.
“Yes, sir.”
“I want that on this blue knife,” he said. “And I want to put the name Ward on the silver one.”
The man started filling out a form, and Ace asked, “How long does the engraving take?”
“I’ll take them into the back and do them right now,” he said. “It’ll be about thirty minutes.” He looked up. “Can you stick around for that long?”
Though the noise in the room was starting to wear him down, Ace nodded. He had plenty of other things he could buy. The Glover family didn’t do a lot of gifts, and none were required. But Ace liked to buy something for someone when he saw it and it reminded him of them, or he knew they’d love it. If nothing stood out, he didn’t get them anything.
They did draw names each year for Christmas, and this year, he’d drawn Preacher. He’d gotten lucky, honestly. He knew exactly what Preacher wanted, but he wouldn’t find it at the holiday fair.
No he needed to get over to the mall and Gaming Guru. Then, he could pick out the newest joystick for Preacher’s flight simulator, or he could pick up the newest NBA basketball game for his video game machine. Preacher loved playing the sports games, and while Ace would rather fly, he’d been known to sit down with Preacher and shoot hoops.
He wandered up and down the aisles, picking up a cookbook for Ida, and a book titled 50 Types of Toast for Montana. He grinned about that for a good while, because he’d had some of her peanut butter bacon toast, and then an avocado scrambled egg toast that had blown his mind. Lincoln asked her every morning she was in the homestead for a different type of toast, and while they’d framed the shed, he’d overheard her brainstorming with Bishop for different types of toast she could make for Link.
He really wanted to find something for Ranger and Oakley, so he decided to stay at the fair for another few minutes, hopeful that there’d be a booth on the next aisle that would hold the perfect present for them.
He turned a corner and nearly collided with a woman. “Sorry,” he said automatically, his multiple bags sloshing around as he stumbled away from her. “Etta?”
His sister’s eyes met his, and recognition lit them. A man stepped to her side, “You okay, sweetheart?” He looked at her and then Ace, his dark eyes lit from something within.
“Yes,” Etta said, straightening her purse on her shoulder. Ace raised his eyebrows when she simply stood there, silent. “This is my brother, Ace,” she finally said, but she certainly wasn’t happy about it. “Ace, this is Noah Johnson.”
“Nice to meet you,” Ace said, extending his hand toward Noah. He wore a smile now, and he kept one hand on Etta’s back as he reached with the other to shake Ace’s hand. He wore a classy, expensive cowboy hat and a dark brown shirt with black lines that ran up and down and across. He had a big belt buckle on his belt, which held up his dark-wash jeans. He wore clean cowboy boots that had never seen dust, and he was exactly the type of man Ace would pair with Etta.
“So are you two dating?” he asked.
“Ace,” Etta hissed.
Noah looked at her, clear surprise in his eyes. They had a silent conversation, and Etta said, “Yes, we’re dating.” She softened as she spoke, her eyes migrating back to Noah as she smiled. When she looked at Ace again, she added, “I haven’t told anyone else, Ace. Will you hold onto this for now, please?”
Hold onto this? He nearly rolled his eyes at Etta’s formality, but he nodded anyway. “Sure,” he said.
“Thank you,” she said, and they continued down the aisle. Ace turned and watched them go, wondering how old Noah Johnson was. He was clearly older than Etta, probably by a lot of years, and Ace wished he’d asked.
“No, you don’t,” he muttered to himself. “It would just be one more secret you’d need to keep.” He was so sick of secrets, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep the ones swirling in his mind.
Ace turned down the dirt road that led back to the farmhouse where he’d eaten Thanksgiving dinner with Holly Ann’s family. The moment he rounded the corner and the house came into view, his stomach sank to the bottom of his cowboy boots.
Holly Ann’s car wasn’t there, and if she wasn’t there yet, there was no way she was coming.
He thought about turning around and leaving. After all, this wasn’t his family, and this wasn’t his sister’s birthday. He wasn’t part of this family—yet—and he wondered what could’ve possibly happened today that would keep Holly Ann from her sister’s birthday.
After all, she only had one sister, and they were extremely important to each other.
Represent her.
The thought came into his mind, and it kept him moving toward the farmhouse. He parked beside her father’s truck and got out without hesitating. Holly Ann should’ve been here twenty minutes ago, with the birthday cake.
As it was, Ace didn’t have anything for Bethany Rose, and foolishness filled him with every step up to the porch. He dutifully rang the doorbell though, and Senator opened the door less than a breath later. “It is him,” he called over his shoulder. He focused on Ace again, a smile filling his whole face. “Evening, Ace.”
“Good evening, sir.” He shook the
man’s hand. “Sorry Holly Ann’s not here. She was supposed to meet me, but I don’t see her car.”
“Oh, she had to run to town for something. What was it?” He stepped back, his last question aimed at Bethany Rose.
“Their helper elf didn’t show up.” Bethany Rose came out of the kitchen and gave Ace a quick hug. “You’re the most adorable man ever. You’re going to win some major points with Holly Ann for coming anyway.”
Ace smiled at her, thinking he’d like to cash in his points for a quiet evening at home with Holly Ann, just the two of them. No emergencies. No gingerbread. No elves.
“Is she going to be the elf?” Ace asked, thinking he’d very much like to see her in that costume.
“Who knows?” Bethany Ann asked. “She’ll figure something out. She always does.” She gestured for him to sit down. “We were just waiting for you. I wasn’t sure if you were still going to come.”
“Sorry I’m late,” he said, thinking he’d had no indication that he shouldn’t go to Bethany Rose’s for dinner. Holly Ann hadn’t texted him about the missing elf, and a familiar irritation struck like lightning right against his spine. “I had to help my mother with something tonight.”
“It’s fine, it’s fine.” She shooed him over to the table now, where her birthday dinner sat waiting.
“Did you make this yourself?” he asked.
“Heavens, no.” She laughed as she set a stack of napkins on the table. Ace took in the spread, so he knew who’d made this food before Bethany Rose said, “Holly Ann made it and brought it over.”
“Mm.” He could see her hand in the delicate scalloped potatoes, and she was the only one he knew who made a cherry-glazed meatloaf. A tray held eight of them, each about as big as a double-deck of cards. His mouth watered, and when he looked at the broccoli and craisin salad, he really missed Holly Ann.
Still, he prayed with her family, and he ate, contributing to the conversation as much as he was able.
Afterward, he wished Bethany Rose happy birthday and left the ranch on the north side of town. As he still needed a gift for Preacher, he stopped at the outdoor mall, finding the parking lot full out to the road. He supposed he wasn’t the only person who hadn’t found all of their gifts yet, though two weeks remained until Christmas.
And a week after that, Holly Ann would be done with all the craziness. Three weeks, he told himself. He could hang on for three more weeks.
He stopped in at Gaming Guru, taking a moment to just bask in the glorious sight of computers, gaming consoles, controllers, earphones, gaming chairs, and more.
He hadn’t played a lot this fall, but Preacher had become good friends with Duke, and they played with Beau Peterson out at Three Rivers Ranch too.
Ace needed to get back into the games with them, because he realized as he stood in the video game store that he missed playing. Specifically, he missed playing with Preacher.
“Can I help you find something?”
“Definitely,” Ace said. “Show me what you’ve got as far as joysticks for flight simulators.” Maybe he’d buy something for himself since he was here and all. “And I want to know the newest, best NBA game.”
“That’s going to be Hoops 2K20,” he said, indicating the wall to the right. “We’ve been selling a lot of those, so if you want it, we can grab it now before we look at joysticks.”
“Yes, please,” Ace said.
Thirty minutes later, he left the store with the video game only, because a joystick was such a personal choice. Preacher would likely want to come pick his own, and Ace thought he’d look around a bit more for something small to add to the basketball game he’d bought.
He skipped all the clothing stores but paused at a kiosk selling chocolate-covered items, his curiosity piqued.
They had the normal suspects, like almonds and raisins, but they also sold chocolate-covered strawberries, dried mango, bacon, and even cinnamon bears.
He wanted to try all of it, so he sampled a little bit of several items, grateful for the woman helping him. “I’ll take that sampler box,” he finally said, thinking Oakley would like it. She’d filled a cupboard in the kitchen at the homestead with chocolate, and at the very least, it would be fun for her to sample the items the way he had.
“And I’ll take a whole bag of these cinnamon bears.” He lifted the large package, because Preacher seemed to have taste buds made of rubber. He loved salsas and hot sauces—the hotter the better—and these cinnamon bears whispered Preacher’s name to Ace.
He continued through the mall until he reached the main doors that led out onto the plaza. He went that way, because Santa would be out there tonight, and if Holly Ann was dealing with an elf issue, maybe he’d get to see her for a moment.
Since the tree lighting ceremony and the hot kiss next to his truck, Ace hadn’t let the opportunity to kiss her pass without taking it. He created the opportunity if he had to, and even if she’d had to leave in the middle of their date, he made sure to kiss her before she did.
The truth was, he was falling fast for her now that he’d managed to keep her in his life for so long.
He stalled at another kiosk, this one right inside the main entrance. He started digging through the cell phone cases, trying to find one that screamed Preacher to him. His real name was Paul, and he did possess a lot of gospel knowledge, but that was only part of the reason he’d been nicknamed Preacher.
He loved to lecture, and he’d been the state champion in debate in high school. He’d been Preacher before that though, because he’d always been the one to bring everyone together, the way a preacher did for church.
Ace found as he picked through the phone cases. Preacher had aligned himself with Judge, who seemed on the opposite end of the spectrum when it came to unifying the family. Ace didn’t know all the details of everyone’s life—and he didn’t want to know.
Ace knew both Preacher and Judge meant well, though. He’d had a spat with Zona about their daddy’s Corvette, which Preacher had parked in the garage at the Ranch House. Not everyone got along all the time, but Ace truly believed they all tried to make things right if they could.
He finally found a black case with a simple line design going across it, making a town skyline. It felt like Preacher to him, and he bought the case and added it to the bag with the cinnamon bears and the video game.
Outside, the line to see Santa wasn’t very long, and Ace stepped past the people waiting and the little elf hut they had to go into to get to where Santa sat on his throne. He looked into the roped off workshop and found a woman wearing the elf costume walking back over to the camera.
It wasn’t Holly Ann, so the crisis must have been handled.
“A while ago,” he said out loud. Yet Holly Ann hadn’t come to dinner, and she hadn’t called or texted him.
“Hey, Ace,” someone said, and he glanced toward Alta Barber.
“Oh, hey,” he said, smiling. He accepted her quick hug and stepped back. “Getting all your shopping done?”
“I hope so,” she said. “I can’t come here again. Just the parking situation is going to put me into labor.” She laughed and then added, “Wait. That’s what I want. I’m going to come every single day.” She gave him a smile and looked over to a juggler that had just started his routine on the plaza.
Ace watched him too, noting the outfit had changed from green, yellow, and purple to red, green, and white. He also didn’t juggle bowling pins as he usually did but had switched to giant candy canes.
Everything in Three Rivers screamed Christmas during December, and Ace was actually getting tired of it. He just wanted a plain vanilla shake, no peppermint swirl. He didn’t want to park on the street to find a gift for his cousin. He wanted his girlfriend to keep the plans they made, and he knew that was the root of all of his frustrations.
He pushed them away and focused on Alta again. She said, “Well, you have a good night, Ace. You waitin’ for Holly Ann?”
“No,” he said, frowning. “Why
? Have you seen her?”
“No,” Alta said. “I just assumed she’d be here if you were.” She flashed him a quick smile and turned toward her husband. “See you later.” She walked away, every step looking painful and slow.
Ace watched Santa hold a little girl on his lap, his smile brilliant as he tilted his head so he could get his ear closer to the child’s mouth. Ace moved closer, something pulling him over to the ropes separating Santa from the people walking in and out of the mall.
Santa giggled, and the little girl slid from his lap.
In that moment, Ace realized that Santa had giggled—and it had sounded like Holly Ann. His eyes met Santa’s, and there was no way it could be Holly Ann. She had dark eyes the color of nearly-black coffee, and Santa had blue eyes.
Santa looked away from him and at the next child coming his way, and Ace turned and walked away.
“Don’t be stupid,” he told himself. “Holly Ann is not playing Santa Claus.”
Chapter Twenty
Holly Ann couldn’t get out of her Santa suit fast enough. She couldn’t believe that Bethany Rose had changed the date of her party, and that it had then fallen on a Tuesday evening. She dressed as Santa and did her job every Tuesday night, and she’d been so late getting to the mall that night.
She’d had to make Bethany Rose’s birthday dinner and drive it out to the ranch. She’d been stressed and exhausted before her shift began, and she hadn’t had a spare second or brain cell to text Ace.
Seeing him standing just on the other side of the ropes, watching her, had sent her nerves on fire. “He doesn’t know it’s you,” she told herself. There was no way. She’d checked her appearance the moment she’d entered the private suite, and every hair sat in the exact right place. There was not a single dark hair showing, and her contacts had concealed her true eye color.
She’d laughed with the little girl on her lap though, and if Ace had heard that….
She pushed it out of her head and pulled out her phone to send him a text. Sorry about tonight. Did you end up staying for dinner?