The Rancher's Holiday Hope

by Brenda Minton

  He’d half listened because at the time he hadn’t met Sierra. He hadn’t known she had hazel eyes, auburn hair and a way of avoiding eye contact when she was uncomfortable. She also had a way of smiling that took a man by surprise.

  At that moment she bestowed one of those rare smiles on his grandmother. Nonni beamed and issued another invitation besides helping with the honeymoon quilt. She would love for Sierra to help her bake pastries and cookies for Christmas. It was a large undertaking. Each year his grandmother baked for several days then she would take the baked goods to her old church in Tulsa, to other Assyrians.

  His grandmother had a big heart. She loved to nurture. He could see the gleam in her eye. She’d found a likely candidate for all of that nurturing.

  Fortunately people started to arrive. His grandmother and Sierra worked side by side, serving cake, cupcakes and pies. As people came up to their table, his grandmother hugged them and doled out compliments and encouragement. Sierra took the role as the quiet one, working to keep the sweet treats flowing.

  “Max, we need another cake. Hurry, hurry, slice it up and bring it over.” Nonni issued the order without looking.

  He turned and nearly tripped over a small child. He recognized her immediately. “Linnie, how are you?”

  The little girl with the tangled blond hair now had her curls in a ponytail. She wore a blue dress and tennis shoes. Her eyes flashed with recognition and she gave him a slight smile, but then she started searching for her mother.

  “Linnie, there you are.” A harried-looking young woman with a baby on her hip, and leading a child a little younger than Linnie, approached.

  “You must be Linnie’s mom. I’m Max St. James.”

  Her cheeks turned a bright shade of pink. “Oh, Mr. St. James, I’m so sorry she’s bothering you. I’ve been meaning to thank you for helping us find her.”

  “I’m not really the one who found her...” He hesitated. “Miss—”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m Patsy Jay.” She took his hand in a hearty handshake. “I’m so glad to meet you. And I’m so thankful for what you did to help find my daughter.”

  “Allow me to introduce you to Sierra Lawson. She’s the one who actually found Linnie.”

  He pointed her toward the dessert table and Sierra. Linnie had already spotted her and he watched as Sierra squatted so that she could be eye to eye with the child.

  “Hey, Linnie! Imagine seeing you here!” Sierra gave the little girl a warm smile.

  Linnie flung her thin arms around Sierra’s neck.

  “I got in trouble,” she told Sierra.

  Patsy Jay stepped close to her daughter. “She doesn’t usually take to strangers. It’s been hard for us since...” Patsy shook her head. “Since the accident. I’m going to nursing school. I’m gone a lot, working and attending classes. My mom watches these three. It’s a lot.” Her cheeks burned scarlet. “I’m sorry. You didn’t need to hear all of that.”

  Sierra stood and he noticed that Linnie had hold of her hand. “Patsy, you don’t have to apologize for doing your best for your family.”

  Patsy teared up. “Thank you so much. And I wanted to invite you and Mr. St. James to my house for dinner. I live in trailer 12 at the Cardinal Roost. I don’t have a lot but I’d like to do something for the two of you.”

  “Oh, I...” Sierra glanced down at the little hand holding hers.

  Patsy bit down on her bottom lip. “I understand if you can’t make it.”

  “Of course we can,” Max responded. “When?”

  “Thursday at six?” Patsy’s hand rested on her daughter’s shoulder. “We would like that, wouldn’t we, Linnie?”

  The little girl nodded.

  Sierra handed Linnie a piece of chocolate cake on a small paper plate. “We would love to come to dinner.”

  The word we took Max by surprise. No doubt she didn’t mean to make it seem as if they were a couple. They were barely acquaintances. Furthermore, he hadn’t been part of a we in years. He had a habit of letting women down and he guessed that Sierra had been let down by too many people in her life.

  Their gazes connected and he knew that her thoughts had taken the same path as his. If they allowed people to connect them as a couple, things would spiral out of control.

  That was the last thing either of them needed, and the one thing Sierra didn’t need was to be another person he let down.

  Chapter Four

  Monday morning Sierra woke up to a clap of thunder that shook the windows. The weather had been warm but a cold front had arrived and the two air masses collided to form one powerful storm system. She prayed it would move through quickly with no real severe weather. With Christmas less than a month away, what they needed was a good cold snap, maybe some snow. But they definitely didn’t need damaging winds or tornadoes.

  Peeking out the window, she shivered. The sky was one massive dark gray cloud. The storm pounding the side of her apartment required baking.

  In the kitchen she flipped on all of the lights, flooding the room in nearly startling brightness. She told the smart speaker to play songs from her panic playlist, smiling at the name she and Kylie had used for the songs that were meant to draw her out of a panic attack. The first song was one she loved to sing along to.

  As she sang out loud, she started boiling hot water for her tea and put two slices of bread in the toaster. Next she grabbed a cookbook, the one with all of her favorite cake recipes. She browsed through the pages and finally went to her go-to vanilla cake. A lovely, simple cake made with real vanilla.

  She pulled out bowls, beaters, ingredients and lined it all up on the counter. Baking had been her escape for years. As a girl enduring her parents’ fights, she would bake. Bake and keep to herself, hiding the shadows of her life so that others couldn’t see what was going on inside the lovely brick facade of the Lawson home. Her banker father would leave the house, briefcase in hand, smiling at neighbors. Her mother would slide designer sunglasses on her face to hide the bruises.

  Sierra would bake. And eat. Now she baked but she didn’t eat the cupcakes, cakes and pies. She gave them away to the other residents of Mercy Ranch, the place she’d called home for the past three years.

  She sifted together the dry ingredients, enjoying the process, the smells that changed as she added each one. Vanilla happened to be her favorite.

  She prepared the round cake pans and poured the batter in equal amounts. There was another crash of thunder and all the windows rattled from the power of the storm. She nearly dropped the bowl. Her hands shook. She wrapped them in her apron and told herself to be calm, take deep breaths, focus.

  From the living room she heard the front door creak on its hinges. She poured water over the tea bag in her cup and walked to the living area. Kylie West waved as she dropped her purse on the sofa.

  “I was on my way to breakfast with Maria when I saw lights on and thought there might be coffee.”

  Sierra headed back to the kitchen to put the cakes in the oven. “You know I don’t drink coffee. Come up with a better reason for knocking on my door in the middle of a storm.”

  “I saw the lights on and thought you might be up, and I wondered, again, why you won’t accept a service dog.”

  “They’re messy. They shed. They require too much.”

  “A Labradoodle doesn’t shed, or not much. They give more than they take.”

  “I’m afraid I would forget to feed it, or water it. That would be terrible. That’s also why I don’t babysit those cute kids you all seem to like bringing into our lives.”

  “You’re not as unaffected by them as you like to pretend. I’ve watched you holding Eve’s little Tori when they come to visit.”

  “She’s not as stinky as some. And Glory’s little bundle of joy, Cara, is okay. When she isn’t smelly or crying because she’s teething. When did Mercy Ranch becom
e a home for wayward teens and their babies?”

  “You’re such a phony. You love babies and dogs.”

  “Make yourself a pot of coffee,” Sierra offered. “I’m baking.”

  She ignored the “Aha! I knew it!” look on Kylie’s face. It wasn’t easy having a therapist for a best friend. She’d had best friends in her life. Everyone had a best friend in grade school, then high school. But Sierra had never invited friends to her home, not with her parents being how they were. Kylie was the first friend she’d ever been completely honest with. It was refreshing, to have a relationship where she didn’t hold back a part of who she was.

  It was the reason she didn’t date. She didn’t want to have a relationship where she couldn’t share her true self. She was tired of fighting the past. She’d made huge strides at Mercy Ranch. She had a life here that she loved. She had friends.

  Kylie made herself at home, because she’d once lived here. She pulled out the aging coffeepot, got it started, then helped herself to the banana muffins Sierra had made the previous day.

  “I thought you were going to breakfast with Maria? Shouldn’t you be at your house with your lovely doctor husband and two precious children?” Sierra asked as she poured batter into another cake pan.

  “He took them to Holly’s Diner for breakfast.”

  “I see. And...?”

  “I wanted to visit with you. I know the last few days have been rough, and then this storm hit.”

  Sierra placed the two round cake pans in the oven and grabbed her tea to join Kylie at the kitchen island. “I’m fine. Really.”

  “How’d it go yesterday, serving dessert at church?” A knowing look lit up Kylie’s expression. Sierra’s friend did not have a poker face.

  “Oh, you mean with Nonni?” She wouldn’t mention Max St. James.

  “Yes, Nonni, of course. She’s a sweet lady. The family lived here for years, until they sold the farm and moved back to Tulsa. I’m glad they’ve returned.”

  “They seem to be a part of the community already.”

  Kylie got up to pour herself a cup of coffee. “Yes, I guess they are. And Melody getting married at the ranch seems so right. How are the plans going?”

  “She wanted a Christmas wedding. Her fiancé pushed it back to Valentine’s Day.”

  “Why do you seem upset about that?”

  Sierra closed her eyes, wishing for once that Kylie had a different job. Why couldn’t she be friends with an accountant, a schoolteacher, maybe a nurse? Anything but a therapist?

  “Could we have a normal conversation?” Sierra asked.

  “Oh, sorry. I’m doing it again, aren’t I?”

  “You are,” Sierra agreed. “So, church was nice yesterday. I enjoyed the music.”

  “It was. Do you have plans for Christmas?”

  Sierra laughed a little. “Same as every year. I’m joining all of you on Christmas Day and hiding the rest of the time.” She paused. “Except I seem to have been invited to make cookies with Nonni and I’m also supposed to help sew a honeymoon quilt.”

  “How fun.” Kylie grinned at her over the rim of her coffee cup, trying to hide her amusement.

  “Really? Fun?”

  “Of course,” Kylie agreed. “I have to leave soon, but save me a piece of cake.”

  “I would, but I’m taking it to Lakeside Manor since it seems some Scrooge is trying to steal Christmas from the residents. I’m going to bake cupcakes for Patsy Jay’s children to decorate. I’ll make extra for you and the kids.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to. But since you insist...” She flashed another quick smile. “I saw you talking to them yesterday.”

  Sierra got up to make herself another cup of tea. “Patsy invited Max St. James and me to her house for dinner. She thinks she needs to repay us, although I don’t think we really did that much. The little girl wandered onto Mercy Ranch then the police took her home. Has she done this before?”

  “I think one other time. I’m glad she had her dog with her.”

  “Yes.” Sierra thought back to her own childhood and the long walks she would take to escape her parents and their fights.

  Sierra glanced at the digital clock on the oven. “I need to finish up here and head to the Stable.” The Stable, a common name for a very uncommon wedding venue. “I’m going to decorate for Christmas.”

  “Don’t you have another Christmas wedding coming up?”

  “Yes, and they want twinkle lights and white poinsettias and trees. White trees! It’s a winter wonderland theme.”

  “Are you going to decorate in here for Christmas?” Kylie asked.

  Sierra got up to check on the cakes. The aroma of sugary vanilla goodness filled the kitchen. Aromatherapy. The storm forgotten, she inhaled deeply.

  “I am. Glory and Cara are living here, too, and they deserve a tree and gifts.” Sierra admired the young mother. She’d started out as a teen mom from a dysfunctional home. For a time Kylie and Carson West were foster parents to Glory’s baby. The Wests mentored Glory, helped her to get her life back on track, and she’d regained custody of her daughter.

  “Does it bother you that Jack is allowing them to stay? I know Mercy Ranch is designated for military vets, wounded warriors, and Glory is just a teenager who made mistakes.”

  “She’s a wounded warrior of another kind. She battled abuse, addiction, and won. She deserves to be here, too.”

  Sierra didn’t look at her friend. She didn’t need a pat on the back or kudos for being kind. She’d spoken the truth.

  Knowing Sierra as she did, Kylie merely cleared her throat and moved on. “So about this dinner Thursday, with Max...”

  “Stop.”

  Kylie laughed and didn’t look at all ashamed. “You know he’s fabulously wealthy, right? Software, a social media platform, government contracts and so forth.”

  “You know I don’t care about the man’s financials, right? He was nice enough to help look for Linnie, and her mother is kind enough to want to thank him.”

  “He’s also handsome.”

  And he smelled amazing. She cringed at her thought. “I’m not interested.”

  “Of course not. But someday you will meet someone.” Kylie carried her cup to the sink.

  “I meet people all the time. I’m not interested in inviting a man into my world, my very fragile hold on sanity. I’m in a good place, Kylie. I don’t need a man to make me happy. I don’t need to get married and have children. I don’t want to repeat—” She cut herself off and just stared at her friend, because the words had rushed out before she could stop them.

  “You don’t want to repeat your parents’ mistakes. I get that. But you should give yourself more credit. You aren’t your parents.”

  “I know.”

  “If you’re looking for the Christmas tree and decorations, they’re in the storage room at the back of the building.”

  “I’ll get them out and let Glory do the decorating. She should be home from her aunt’s in Tulsa by the first of next week.”

  “She’ll enjoy decorating the apartment.” Kylie agreed with the plan. “And you know she’s going to hold you to the offer to bake and decorate Christmas cookies for the church Christmas program.”

  “I know. And I don’t mind.”

  Festive lights, trees, pretty wall hangings. All of the trimmings of Christmas. And now she could add to that baking Assyrian Christmas pastries with an elderly woman affectionately known as Nonni. She wasn’t going to lie to herself, though. She wanted to experience the traditions the older woman had passed down to her children and grandchildren.

  She knew it would be as if she was standing outside, peeking in, taking a small piece of that family for herself. Her own family had never shared traditions, other than perhaps drinking too much on holidays and ending the day with fighting and uncomfortable sile
nce. Thankfully she’d had decent friends back then, the kind that had shown her a glimpse of real family life.

  Sierra walked Kylie to the door. The rain had dwindled to a light mist. The grass glistened with the moisture and, in the distance, the sun tried to peek through the heavy gray clouds.

  She remembered the verse, that His mercies were new every morning. Just as quickly as the verse skipped through her mind, hope kindled in her heart. It was a flicker of joy, a strange lightness to her soul. It seemed to come out of nowhere. And yet it was very real. As if spiritually and emotionally she had turned a strange corner and was traveling in a new direction.

  Hope. Unexplainable. Unaccountable. Unexpected. It made her wonder, what did God know that she didn’t?

  Maybe it was the coming holidays? Whatever it was, for the first time in a long while, she found herself hopeful.

  * * *

  Melody caught up with Max as he was heading toward the barn, his boots sloshing in the rain-soaked grass. She was dressed for work, in a pretty sweater over leggings and boots. Somewhere along the way she’d ditched childhood, princess dresses and their mother’s high heels and become an adult.

  “Shouldn’t you be on your way to work? You know, small children expecting their favorite teacher?” he asked.

  “Teacher meetings, so I’m going in a little bit late. I was on the phone with Andrew. He’s going to try to be here the week after Christmas.”

  “I see,” he said. He pulled gloves out of his pocket and tried to push back the doubts about this fiancé who couldn’t even bother to show up and take his sister to dinner. “Dad and I are buying cattle today. Too bad you can’t join us.”

  As a kid she’d loved the sale barn and livestock auctions.

  “Oh, I really wish I could but...”