by Liz Isaacson
Who cared if Zona, Ida, and Etta knew?
He let the breeze track across his face, and he enjoyed the dark silence for a few minutes, letting his thoughts settle. Eventually, the jacket wasn’t warm enough, and Cactus hurried back inside.
His phone rang as he opened the back door, but he’d found a place of peace, and he picked up the device. Ace’s name sat there, and Cactus should answer it. The man had been suffering for a week now.
He tapped on the screen, but he was just one microsecond too late, and the call went to voicemail. He sighed and checked the other call from earlier. Bishop. Of course. It was Christmas Eve, and the barn wore its best face for the holidays.
Cactus didn’t want to miss the meal with his family, but he didn’t know how to come back. “You just go walk in,” he told himself. “You’ve done it before.”
His phone bleeped, and he dialed his voicemail.
“Cactus,” Ace said. “You need to get over to True Blue. Willa Knowlton showed up, and it was obvious to anyone with eyes that she was looking for you. I’m not there, so don’t worry. I’m not going to say anything again, and you won’t have to see me.”
Cactus’s heart leapt, and he didn’t think Ace would lie to him.
“Willa’s back? And she’s at the barn?” He needed to get to the barn as fast as possible. He looked down at his clothes, and he wasn’t sure he could go like this. He couldn’t remember when he’d washed these jeans, and didn’t Christmas Eve call for slacks? Maybe an ugly sweater?
What would Willa be wearing?
Ace continued with, “Just get over there, okay? You and Willa will be good together, and she’s back in town. Okay, bye. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas,” Cactus said to the message, and then he tapped the one to return the message sender’s call.
“Cactus,” Ace said, surprise heavy in his voice. “You called me back.”
“I did,” he said. “Listen, first, I’m not upset with you.”
Ace said nothing, and Cactus didn’t expect him to. “About Willa….”
“You’re on speaker with Preacher.”
Cactus cleared his throat. “Okay,” he said. “Was Willa dressed up? Are people wearing jeans and stuff?” He expected Ace to laugh, but he didn’t. Of course he wouldn’t. Ace didn’t make fun of Cactus about things that were important to him.
“I didn’t notice, honestly,” Ace said. “She was sort of surrounded by people.”
Of course she was. Everyone loved Willa, and Bear had offered the barn and their Christmas Eve meal to the pastor and congregation for anyone who didn’t have family in town for the holidays.
“I’m sure whatever you’re wearing is fine,” Ace said. “She won’t care, Cactus. It’s not about what you have on. It’s about you.”
Cactus swallowed, because he was what was lacking. “Okay,” he said. “Listen, thanks for calling to tell me.”
“Of course. I thought you’d want to know.”
“I do.”
“Don’t think too hard about it,” Ace said. “Get on Matador, and go.”
“I’m going to show up smelling like horse,” Cactus grumbled.
Ace chuckled then, but Cactus should’ve bought a truck when he’d bought that car. Then he could’ve driven to True Blue and wowed Willa with his masculine cologne.
Ace said something about needing to go, and Cactus let him end the call. He hurried into his bedroom and changed into a fresh pair of jeans and a clean red and white plaid shirt from his closet. He put the leather jacket back on, then took it off to spray on a bit of cologne.
He could walk, but it would take thirty minutes, or he could ride Matador and get there in ten. He opted for the horse, praying the whole ride to True Blue that his fresh clothes and cologne would cover up any horsey smell he might pick up.
After looping the reins over the post behind the barn, and removing the saddle on Matador, he hurried through the back door. Noise met his ears instantly, and Cactus nearly turned right back around. He didn’t like crowds, and sometimes he couldn’t even tolerate his own family.
He paused in the back of the room and scanned the large hall in front of him. Definitely fifty or sixty people, and he told himself he went to church with at least that many people. More, even.
He saw Bear and Sammy standing near the pastor, both of them nodding at something Pastor Summers said. Bishop, Ida, and Etta bustled around the buffet, setting out bowls and trays of food.
Dinner hadn’t started yet, and Cactus wondered if he could just slip into the room. He spotted Mother, and she’d brought Donald Parker to their Christmas Eve dinner. He gaped at her, the joy on her face the most wonderful thing he’d ever seen.
The first couple of steps in her direction were the hardest, but after that, he moved easily. He hadn’t seen Willa yet, but he wanted to speak to his mother first anyway. She saw him coming from a dozen paces away, and she rose to her feet.
Her smile flitted easily across her face, and she held out one hand toward him. He took it when he reached her and said, “Mother,” before he leaned in and kissed her cheek quickly.
“Cactus,” she said, stepping to his side and facing the fire chief. “This is Donald Parker. Don, my second son, Charles. We call him Cactus.”
“Real nice to meet you,” Donald said, and Cactus shook his hand.
“You too,” he said, smiling in a way that felt very real to him. He met Mother’s eyes again. “Have you seen Willa?”
Mother inclined her head to her right, where the rest of the barn lay, and Cactus turned, expecting to have to search for the woman who’d been plaguing him since the very moment he’d met her.
She stood maybe ten feet from him, a nervous look on her face. She wore a pair of black pants and a festive blouse in white with colored holiday lights strung across it. Her hair fell over her shoulders in pretty auburn waves, and she tried a smile on her face.
Cactus returned it and released his mother’s hand, his pulse positively pounding through his whole body. He took a step toward her just as a child ran up to her. She turned her attention to the boy, who was maybe ten or eleven, and he signed to her with his hands.
Surprise bolted through Cactus when she spoke back to him, saying the words out loud as she made the signs. “Save me a spot, Mitchell.” She glanced at Cactus. “Two spots.” She smiled at the child, and he turned and ran off again, leaving Willa to watch him and then turn back to Cactus.
He’d closed more distance between them, and he slowed the closer he got. He stepped to her side and easily slid his hand right into hers. She sucked in a breath and looked down at their twined fingers. “I thought you’d be so angry,” she whispered.
He heard her even among all of the chatter in the barn, along with the music piping through the speakers.
“Not angry,” he said. “Confused, sure. Frustrated you didn’t call back, yes. But honestly, Willa, I’m just glad you’re back.”
“I got a new phone,” she said. “I didn’t have any numbers in it.”
“A new phone, huh?” he asked. “I’m real interested in hearing all about it. Would you be available to go to dinner with me sometime soon?”
Willa’s hand in his tightened, and she tugged him slightly closer to her. “You might want to wait to ask me out,” she said.
“Why?”
“Until you’re sure you want to truly go out with me.”
“Willa,” he said. “Of course—”
“I have to tell you something.” Her eyes widened. “It’s going to change everything.” She swallowed and Cactus felt her anxiety as if it were his. She indicated something across the room, and Cactus looked out across the hall.
“That little boy,” she said. “The one who just came up to me? See him?”
Cactus saw him standing next to Willa’s brother, his back to him and Willa. “Yes,” he said. “I see him.”
“He’s my son.”
The bottom fell out of Cactus’s stomach, and numbn
ess flowed through him. She gently slipped her fingers away from his, and he let her, because he couldn’t do much more than breathe and blink.
“Your son?” he asked.
“His name’s Mitchell. He’s ten years old, and he was born with congenital hearing loss.”
Cactus looked back at her and found her beaming with love for her son. He had no idea what to say, so he just looked back to the little boy.
A ten-year-old boy.
Cactus should have one of those too.
“I told him to save me two seats, but if you’d rather sit with your family, I understand.” She took a step away from him as if she’d leave him standing there alone. “And if you’d rather not go out, I completely understand that too. Really, Cactus. No hard feelings, and no explanations needed.” She moved again.
“Willa,” he said, and she turned back to him. “Can I have your new number?”
Another smile touched her lips. “Sure.” She gave it to him, and he typed it into his phone. He looked up again, his heart thrashing now.
He moved toward her, stuffing his phone in his back pocket in one step, and taking her hand in the next. “How will you introduce me to your son?” he asked as they started the walk toward the table very near the front of the room.
He was aware of everyone’s eyes on him and Willa as they walked, but he didn’t care. Not one bit. Let them look. Let them all talk.
“I think we’ll go with friends for now,” Willa said, glancing up at him. “How’s that?”
“That’s fine,” Cactus said. “For now.” He leaned closer and slowed his step. His hand tightened around hers. “You tell me when you’re available for dinner, lunch, breakfast, whatever, and I’ll be there.”
Willa nodded and swallowed, and Cactus felt sure she knew he wanted to be more than friends. A lot more.
Patrick signed something to Mitchell, and he turned around as they approached.
“Mitch,” Willa said, removing her hand from Cactus’s so she could talk to her son. “I want you to meet my friend, Cactus.” She indicated him, and Cactus raised his hand in a wave. It probably meant something else in sign language, but he had no idea what.
Mitchell smiled and stuck out his hand, and Cactus shook it. The boy had dark brown eyes that hadn’t come from Willa, but his hair color mirrored hers. A deep, dark blonde with plenty of red in there. His hair had been cut recently, as everything was trimmed up nice and neat, and he wore a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved shirt in red and white.
He signed something to his mother, and Willa giggled.
“What did he say?” Cactus asked. He’d need to learn sign language quickly if he wanted this boy and his mother in his life.
“He said the two of you match.” She reached out and flipped open his jacket a little bit more. “Red and white, like candy canes.” She beamed at her son, and moved her hands again. “Did you save us two spots?”
Mitch turned and showed them to her, and she took the one next to him, and Cactus took the one next to her. It felt strange to be at a table without any other Glovers, but also a bit magical at the same time.
“Cactus,” a little girl said to his right, and he turned toward Gigi.
“Heya, Gigi,” he said, smiling at the little blonde girl.
“Do you believe in Santa Claus?” she asked, her six-year-old face open and unassuming.
“I sure do,” he said proudly and without hesitation. Willa’s hand landed on his knee under the table, and a jolt of electricity flowed through him. “In fact, Santa’s brought me some pretty amazing gifts over the years.”
Her eyes widened and she stared at him. “Like what?” she asked.
“Well,” he said, covering Willa’s hand on his leg with one of his. “This one year, he brought me a brand-new horse….”
Chapter Thirty-One
Holly Ann pulled up to the barn where she’d catered Lois Glover’s birthday party. The drive had taken no time at all, because she’d been so nervous. She hoped there would be plenty of people here, and perhaps she could simply text Ace that she’d like to see him if at all possible, and could he please come out?
By the number of cars and trucks parked in front of the barn and down the road, having a crowd wouldn’t be an issue.
Finding Ace could be though, and Holly Ann decided to get out of her car and walk inside the barn. If she texted, he might ignore her or not see it.
“If he ignores you, that’s a pretty big sign, isn’t it?” Her footsteps slowed, and she had no idea what to do. Text first and see if he responded? Go inside and refuse to give him more time? Refuse to let him break up with her, the way he’d done a couple of months ago to her?
Before she could make a decision and choose a direction, the massive barn door slid open and people started spilling out into the night. Not wanting to be caught standing there, Holly Ann quickly ducked back to her car, sliding behind the wheel and closing the door so she sat bathed in darkness.
From her parallel parking position along the side of the road, she could see everyone as they left the barn and flowed toward their vehicles. The stream evened and slowed, and finally, the Glovers started to come outside.
She saw Ranger and Oakley leave first, then Arizona and Duke. Ward came out with his mother and Mister, and the three of them got in the same truck and rumbled away. Cactus and Willa Knowlton exited with a child, as well as Bear, Sammy, Lincoln, and Sammy’s parents.
Lois herself came out with Donald Parker, and Montana Martin with her family. Judge exited alone, and Holly Ann found that odd. He usually stuck with Preacher and even Ace, but neither of them came outside.
Hers was now one of the last cars in the lot, and Judge saw it. She wanted to duck down, but when he made a beeline for her, she couldn’t. She’d been spotted. She rolled down her window and he leaned over. “He’s not here.”
“Ace?”
“Yeah.” Judge didn’t sound too happy about it either. “He and Preacher left.”
“Oh, okay,” she said, reaching up to grip the wheel. “Do you think it’s too late to go to Bull House and see him?” She’d come all this way, and she wasn’t sure she’d be able to work up her bravery to do it again.
“No,” Judge said. “I mean, they’re not here on the ranch at all. They didn’t come to dinner. They left.”
Holly Ann couldn’t read his expression, and she must’ve looked stunned or confused, both feelings running through her, because Judge opened the door and sat in the passenger seat.
She could see him then, and he definitely wasn’t happy.
“They left the ranch?”
“Mm.”
“When will they be back?” Maybe they’d just run to town for a few groceries before Christmas Day, when all the stores would be closed. “I could wait a little while.”
“No one knows when they’ll be back. Heck, Ace and Preacher don’t know when they’ll be back.”
“You’re not making any sense,” Holly Ann said.
Judge turned toward her, his dark eyes firing dangerously. “Ace and Preacher packed a bag and left town. They’re gone.”
Holly Ann understood that. Her mouth widened. She was the one who didn’t want to put down roots. She was the one who would pack a bag and leave town if things got too hard. She had the gypsy soul—not Ace.
None of what Judge had said added up to anything remotely close to what Ace would do.
“Why?” she asked.
“Who knows?” Judge asked. “Ace has been miserable since the night you guys broke up. He came back in the house and said so much stuff.”
Her heart beat against the back of her tongue. “What kind of stuff?” she managed to ask.
“Everything,” Judge said. “All these secrets about all these different people in the family.”
Holly Ann couldn’t breathe. Her mouth felt sticky and stale.
“He apologized, but once a secret’s been said, it’s really hard to take that back.”
She could only nod, tho
ugh Judge wasn’t looking at her.
“Anyway, it’s been a little…delicate around her for a few days, and I guess he maybe didn’t want to keep tiptoeing around. I don’t know.” He sighed as if Ace leaving town for a few days placed a great burden on him personally.
“Do you….” Holly Ann trailed off, her idea starting to take shape, but she needed a little more time to formulate it.
“Do I what?” Judge asked.
“Do you think you could keep an eye out and let me know when he returns?”
Judge looked at her fully then, his eyes wide. “Why? What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to apologize too, and I’m going to pray he’ll take me back.”
Judge studied her for another moment, then two, then ten. Finally, he said, “All right. I’ll get everyone on-board, and the moment any of us sees him, we’ll text you.”
Relief rushed through her, and she said, “Great. Thanks, Judge.”
He nodded and got out of her car. He didn’t look back as he crossed the road to his truck, and Holly Ann didn’t stay any longer, because Ace wasn’t even here.
“How could he not be here?” she asked herself as she drove back down the hill in the pitch black night, only the moon and her headlights for guidance. As she headed home, she prayed for direction too.
Nothing came, and she fell asleep on Christmas Eve with tears on her pillow and Snickers curled into her side.
Holly Ann suffered through her second-worst Christmas of her life. The first had been the very first one after her mother had left Three Rivers, and just she, Bethany Rose, and Daddy had been present for their traditional Christmas brunch, which came right after all the presents had been opened.
She didn’t have any presents to open, and her family had gotten together last night for their holiday meal.
She made her own French toast, sausage links, and plenty of whipped cream and strawberries. She ate alone, feeding bits of fruit, meat, and bread to Snickers.
She skipped the after-Christmas sales in the mall stores, boutiques, and online.
By December twenty-seventh, she’d started to grow angry. She checked her phone every other minute, it seemed, just to make sure no one from the Glover family had texted. The only person who did message her was Bethany Rose, and she’d taken to asking about Ace every single day.