The Rancher's Holiday Hope

by Brenda Minton

  “I wouldn’t know. Daisy doesn’t have much to do with the rest of us. She has a little clothing store in Tulsa. But don’t change the subject. We’re talking about Sierra.”

  “Yeah, I kinda gathered that. And I guess I don’t know what to tell you. I’m staying here. I’m talking to Sierra.”

  “If you hurt her, you’ll have to answer to a lot of folks in this town,” Isaac warned him.

  “I can take care of myself,” Sierra stated as she walked out of her office, a cup of tea in hand.

  Max noticed she didn’t always drink the tea. It might be her way of finding calm. As if to prove him right, she lifted the cup and inhaled.

  “Yeah, you can take care of yourself.” Isaac shot Max another dangerous look. “Max, I’ll be catching up with you later.”

  “I don’t doubt it.”

  Isaac left. Max took a deep breath and faced the woman he had no right to. He told himself he shouldn’t feel a thing. A wiser man would walk away now, before he got tangled up in something that might be hard to leave behind when it was time to go.

  “Why are you still here?” she asked.

  “Not a clue. I just didn’t want to leave yet.”

  “Did you hurt Amy Stanford?” she asked, taking a seat on the bench outside her office.

  “Yes, I hurt her. Looking back, we were way too young to be engaged. We were high school sweethearts and childhood friends. It seemed right to ask her to marry me. She’s glad I showed my less than trustworthy self because she went on to marry a pediatrician. She has a good life now with a man she loves, who loves her to distraction. I’ve never loved anything to distraction, except my family and work.”

  “I think you’re too hard on yourself. You’re a good man, Max.”

  He sat next to her, keeping some space between them.

  She didn’t completely trust him and wasn’t completely comfortable with his proximity.

  “It isn’t you,” she said after a few minutes. “It’s the past. You know how the past is. It has a way of sticking its nose into the present. Isaac doesn’t have to worry about me getting hurt. I don’t allow anyone to get that close.”

  “Afghanistan?” he asked.

  She let out a long breath and closed her eyes. “Yes, and I don’t talk about it. It’s taken me three years at Mercy Ranch to realize I am whole, alive and I have a future.”

  “It’s taken me less than a week to realize you’re a remarkable woman.”

  She gave him a quick look. “No, I’m not.”

  He could argue that point but he knew she’d never concede. She was remarkable. He’d never met anyone like her and he wanted to know her better.

  Which is why he shouldn’t have stayed. He got up to leave and she stood, too. He was tall and she was average height, coming to his chin. When she looked up at him with golden hazel eyes, he wanted to kiss her. Just once, to see if it would be everything he thought it might be.

  Instead he took a step back because he knew her fears. And he knew his. If he’d met her years ago, maybe things would be different. But right now they were two people in two different places in their lives.

  “I’ll see you Thursday,” she said, stepping away from him.

  “Yes, Thursday.” He walked away.

  It wasn’t easy to do. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman made him want to stay. It had been years. Or maybe it had never been.

  What was it about this woman, the one who constantly pushed him away, that made him want to get closer?

  As he got in his truck he told himself it was the fact that she kept herself just out of reach. We always want what we can’t have. It was as simple as that.

  Chapter Six

  Sierra stepped out of her vehicle then reached in for the container of cupcakes. Her stomach roiled a little as she closed the door and faced the single-wide mobile home where Patsy Jay lived with her children. She could see them peeking out the windows, watching her.

  Socializing was not her thing. Children were also not her thing. Or so she kept telling herself. They were like tiny soldiers armed with sticky fingers, difficult questions and hugs. They surrounded a person, leaving no room for escape.

  The door opened. Patsy stood there looking frazzled, tired and yet happy.

  “Come in, we’re not too scary.” She smiled big, pushing a stray hair back from her face. Even with dark circles under her eyes, Patsy was pretty. She probably wasn’t much older than Sierra.

  “Of course you aren’t scary.” Sierra stepped forward, carrying the huge container of cupcakes. Too many cupcakes, she realized, but she hadn’t been able to stop.

  “What do you have there?” Patsy asked as Sierra made her way up the off-kilter steps, moving to avoid a broken board.

  “Cupcakes. A lot of cupcakes,” Sierra said.

  “Oh, the kids will love you.” Patsy took the container and glanced toward the end of the driveway, past the few other trailers on her end of the park.

  “That must be Mr. St. James,” Patsy said unnecessarily as the truck was pulling to a stop behind Sierra’s SUV.

  “Must be.” Sierra stepped inside the trailer, telling herself it didn’t matter to her that Max St. James had arrived.

  It didn’t matter that he had taken her by surprise the day of their committee meeting. She’d wanted to sit with him longer, sharing stories. She never shared stories. What was she thinking?

  Linnie moved from the window to the middle of the small room, her dog at her side. The big shepherd took up a lot of space in the small living area that was already crowded with two sofas, two end tables and a playpen in the middle, where Patsy’s youngest played with a rubber giraffe. The other child, a boy who appeared to be only slightly younger than Lennie, ducked behind a footstool and peeked out at Sierra. She wiggled two fingers at him and he raised a hand to do the same. He giggled and waved again.

  The living room shrunk even more when Max walked in. He didn’t look her way, not at first. He removed his jacket and his cowboy hat. His forest-green-brown eyes were covered by sunglasses that he removed as he stepped farther into the room. He brushed his hand through his unruly chocolate-brown curls.

  The two of them made eye contact with the barest of smiles, then he turned to greet the children.

  Max squatted in front of Linnie and the little boy who had clambered out from behind the footstool to stand next to his older sister. Max spoke to them and then, without hesitation, pulled the baby from the playpen and held him in his arms.

  Sierra remembered that she’d brought sprinkles for the cupcakes. She dug into her purse and pulled out the Christmas-colored candies. “I thought the children might like to decorate the cupcakes. I know Christmas is several weeks away but it’s always fun to make things festive.”

  “They would love that.” Patsy took the jars from Sierra. “That was so nice of you. We always try to do Christmas cookies. It’s a tradition. But I’ve been so busy with work and school, I’m just not sure when we’ll get around to it. I still need to get my tree out of the shed in the back so the kids can decorate it.” Her eyes flooded with tears. She wiped at them, appearing to be half-angry at herself for crying. “I’m so sorry, it’s been almost a year and the waterworks still come at unexpected times. I didn’t expect to be doing this alone.”

  Sierra searched for the right words, the kind Kylie would have said in a moment like this. She didn’t want to offer platitudes. This woman—Patsy—she needed real help, not a passing comment about things getting better.

  “You don’t have to apologize,” Sierra said. “I can’t imagine what you’ve been through. But I can tell you, waking up each day, taking steps forward and doing what needs to be done, even when you don’t want to, those are the signs of someone who’s going to make it. I’m sorry, I’m not good at this. I haven’t been through what you’re going through so I can only speak fr
om my own experiences.”

  Patsy grabbed her in a tight hug. “Oh, Sierra, thank you. That is actually what I needed to hear today. Just to know that I’m going to survive. One day at a time.”

  Patsy grabbed a tissue and wiped her eyes. “I’m such a watering pot. But thank you both for coming and allowing me to do this. I think that sometimes people are afraid to impose. They don’t want the poor widow to cook for them. But I need to do this. I need to do something normal, to feel like I still have my life and...just, thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” Max said. He was still holding the baby boy. Although not as closely. “I hate to be a downer, but this guy is not smelling too great. I don’t change diapers. But I’ll be happy to go out to the shed and get your tree and other decorations, if that would help.”

  “I would be so thankful.” Patsy took the baby from him. “Oh, Johnny, you are definitely stinky.”

  “Do you need help?” Sierra called after Max as he headed for the front door of the trailer.

  He grinned, as if he knew she was escaping to fresh air. “If you want.”

  Sierra stopped midway through the living room where Linnie had plopped down on the floor with her brother. They were watching an educational cartoon on TV, arms around one another. As Sierra stepped around them, Linnie looked up and smiled. The child’s hand reached for Sierra’s. The big dog sprawled out next to the children raised his head to give her a warning look.

  Sierra touched her fingers to Linnie’s hand.

  “I’ll stay here unless you need me,” Sierra said.

  Max glanced back, saw her with Linnie and grinned.

  “I think I can manage,” he told her.

  Her breath hitched and she tried to ignore that smile. It was the smile of approval, of promise. And she didn’t deserve it.

  Still, when he left, she settled on the floor with the children, as if she did it every day. She pretended it didn’t bother her that the dog licked her hand or that she might possibly be sitting on a chewed-up cookie.

  Patsy called out that she was going to the bedroom, so they wouldn’t all have to deal with the toxic diaper.

  “Johnny’s smelly,” Linnie said to Sierra.

  Sierra’s head jerked around at the softly spoken words and Linnie grinned at her.

  “He is a little,” she agreed as Linnie returned her attention to the television.

  The front door opened. Max placed a tub down on the floor. “I found Christmas.”

  She remained sitting on the floor with Linnie. “I hope you didn’t bring any spiders or mice with you.”

  His smile teased. “I’m not guaranteeing anything.”

  Linnie giggled.

  “I didn’t bring any spiders or mice into the house. But I found the tree and decorations. I’ll be back in a minute with another tub.”

  “We’ll be here,” Sierra informed him, turning her attention back to the cartoon.

  * * *

  Max returned a few minutes later with another blue tub, this one full of decorations. He pushed his way into the living room and nearly tripped over the dog. The animal gave him a warning look as he stretched and moved to the other side of the room.

  “Don’t worry, bud, I’m not about to harm your family.”

  The dog didn’t look convinced. Instead it found Linnie and sat next to the child. She didn’t look as if she needed the protection tonight. Linnie, her brother Teddy and Sierra were all at the table, dozens of cupcakes lined up, waiting to be decorated. He watched as Linnie dipped a finger in icing and took a lick.

  Patsy shrieked and grabbed the cupcake. “Linnie, no tasting. You can’t share cupcakes that you’ve been eating.”

  “Sorry, Mama.” Linnie went back to decorating, sprinkling red and green stars, silver bells and sugary glitter on the icing.

  Patsy hugged Johnny close and leaned to kiss her daughter. “I love you.”

  Linnie nodded but didn’t stop decorating, placing the sprinkles and glitter in just the right spots.

  “Thank you so much for bringing the cupcakes,” Patsy said to Sierra as she handed Johnny to Max. She smiled at him. “If you don’t mind holding him, I’ll get the lasagna out of the oven.”

  The child smelled decidedly better now, so Max took him, holding him on his right side as he picked up red sprinkles.

  Sierra guided three-year-old Teddy’s hands to dust green sprinkles over a white-iced cupcake. Max waited until she looked up before he lifted his cupcake and took a big bite. Johnny grabbed his hand and pulled the cupcake toward his own mouth, tasting the icing.

  “Hey, you’ll ruin your dinner,” Sierra scolded.

  “Nothing can ruin my dinner. I could eat a dozen of these cupcakes and still eat lasagna.”

  “If you did, you wouldn’t be so—” She cut herself off and her face turned a shade of pink that rivaled the sprinkles she’d brought for the cupcakes.

  He lowered his voice. “I wouldn’t be so what?”

  It was a dangerous game he played with the wedding planner.

  “I need to get these kids washed up for dinner.” Patsy swooped in, took Johnny and told the other two children to follow her. “We’ll be right back with clean hands and faces.”

  “I’ll clean up this mess so we can use the table,” Sierra offered.

  “No hurry.” Patsy giggled as she walked away.

  “So what?” Max asked Sierra again.

  “So...”

  “Nice?” he asked. “Tall? I get that from my father. I also run and work out several times a week. My condo has a gym. And a pool.”

  “Stop,” she said as she focused on his mouth.

  She grabbed a napkin out of the holder on the table and started to wipe his mouth. Just as quickly she pulled back, as if she had been caught by surprise.

  “Where?” he asked.

  She handed him the napkin, then pointed to the spot on the corner of his mouth.

  “Here?” He wiped the wrong side.

  “Stop.” Her eyes lit with mirth.

  “You might have to help me,” he told her.

  Sierra wasn’t a woman who played flirty games. He should have known that. She started gathering up the cupcakes, moving them to the kitchen counter. He liked the idea that she might be attracted to him. What would she say if he told her he might be attracted to her prickly self? He guessed she wouldn’t like being called prickly. She also wouldn’t like it if he told her she smelled like sunshine.

  Years ago, Melody’d had a pet hedgehog. He remembered trying to pet it once. It had jumped, hitting him with sharp quills, warning him to stay away. Sierra reminded him of that hedgehog.

  He grabbed several cupcakes and carried them to the counter, setting them next to the growing number she’d lined up in a disposable aluminum baking dish.

  “I’m sorry for teasing you,” he whispered to her.

  “It’s okay. I kind of stepped right into it. And I don’t think you need me to tell you what your best attributes are.”

  “Now you have me all aflutter.”

  She laughed, the sound husky and all Sierra. “Really? ‘Aflutter’? How very Victorian maiden of you.”

  “It’s better than telling you I’d like to kiss you and getting punched in the face. That would be awkward. Especially since we have to work together on the committee and on Melody’s wedding.”

  Silence reigned between them for a long minute. Then she turned away from the cupcakes she’d been arranging. “Yes, a kiss would be awkward. You’re making this difficult.”

  He pointed to himself. “Who? Me?”

  She rolled her eyes at that. “Yes, you. You’re making my life very complicated.”

  “I didn’t mean to.”

  Patsy returned, talking louder than necessary as she came down the hall with the children.

  �
��What can I do to help?” Sierra asked Patsy.

  Soon she was putting dishes on the table, pulling plates and flatware from drawers. Max herded the children to the living room until they were called to dinner.

  They sat at the small table and joined hands. Patsy asked him to say the blessing. As he did it, he realized that this moment, simple as it was, felt right. In the past five years his life had changed drastically. He’d gone from family dinners to fancy dinners in cities far from home and family. He’d eaten at exclusive restaurants in New York City and Paris. His life had changed and he thought he’d changed, too. Seemed like he was still the kid from Hope who liked to team rope and drive his truck down back roads with the windows down.

  Tonight, dining on lasagna, with Linnie eyeing the French bread on his plate and Johnny in his high chair drooling more than he ate, was one of the best meals he’d had in years. Sitting across from him, Sierra made small talk yet looked very uncomfortable, as if this was the furthest thing from normal to her.

  When Linnie reached for Sierra’s bread, Sierra handed it over.

  “Sierra, you don’t have to do that!” Patsy turned a bright shade of red. “Honestly, Linnie!”

  Linnie ate the bread. Then slipped a bite to the dog beneath her chair.

  They all pretended not to notice.

  After they’d finished eating, Max helped clear the table. The dog, suddenly his best friend, remained close. Obviously he was used to the table scraps. Max offered him a piece of bread on the sly. The dog grabbed it and ran to the living room.

  “Do you want me to set up your Christmas tree?” he asked Patsy.

  Linnie grabbed his hand and tried to pull him toward the living room.

  “Would you? That would be wonderful.” Patsy wiped at a drop of water on her face. “We’ll be right in to help. And thank you for this evening, and again, for coming to our rescue.”

  “Just being neighborly,” Sierra said in her reserved way. “That’s what I’ve learned living in Hope, that everyone here is a neighbor and they help each other.”