“Nah, I see him all the time. How’s Bub doing? He seems to be settling in.”
“Things are good.” Sierra glanced down at the dog. “He crawled in bed with me this morning. I told him he no longer has to sleep on the floor.”
Kylie’s face split in a grin. “Now, that’s what I like to hear. You’re letting him do what he’s been trained to do. He’s such a good boy.”
“He is.”
Their food arrived. For a few minutes they didn’t talk about nightmares, dogs or anything else that might have made Sierra feel uncomfortable. And yet Sierra felt angsty. The kind of angst that had nothing to do with the past and a lot to do with change and the unknown future.
Kylie toyed with the last of her eggs. “Why did Bub feel the need to comfort you?”
Sierra’s gaze drifted to the window, to the Christmas-decorated streets, to the church a few blocks away. “Nightmares. It’s been a while since I had one so vivid.”
“I’m sorry.” Kylie cleared her throat. “As your friend, not your therapist.”
“Good, because I really just need a friend today.”
“Oh?” Kylie asked.
“He kissed me,” Sierra blurted out.
Kylie laughed a little and looked around at the other tables. “Bub kissed you?”
“Stop!” Sierra peeked through her fingers, which were covering her face. “You know who I mean.”
Kylie became serious. “I know who you mean. And you think that’s why you had a nightmare and also what had you running at zero dark thirty this morning?”
“Yes, that’s what I think.” Sierra sat back in her chair with a sigh. “I’m acting ridiculous. Just say it. I’m a thirty-year-old woman who should be able to navigate relationships, holidays, emotions. But I’m terrible at relationships. I’m terrible at trusting.”
“You’re a thirty-year-old woman who was held captive and tortured.”
“Shh,” Sierra said. “I know my labels. Domestic Abuse Survivor. POW. Wounded Warrior. Veteran. But I am also a survivor. That’s how I choose to label myself.”
“Even survivors have bad days, Sierra.”
“I know that.” Sierra briefly closed her eyes. When she opened them, Kylie was studying her, waiting. “I kissed him and I didn’t fall apart.”
Instead she’d felt the opposite of falling apart. And that might have been what frightened her most of all.
* * *
At noon on the Monday after Sierra had visited the St. James family, Max was knee-deep in farmwork. He stood to one side of the corral, the mutt dog at his side as they moved cattle through a chute to give them immunizations, tag the ears and label the newer livestock.
His dad yelled something about a heifer and Max looked up, completely lost. Then he saw her. The dog immediately brought the Angus heifer back to the herd.
“I know you’re used to office work,” Max’s dad called out, “but do you think you could join me here on the ranch?”
Max took his hat off and wiped his hand through his hair. He definitely wasn’t the best farmhand. “Yeah, sorry, Dad. I got distracted.”
He never got distracted. His dad gave him a look, shook his head and said something to Richard, the hand they’d recently hired. Both men laughed.
It was no laughing matter. One solitary kiss on a moonlit night had him questioning everything about himself. He never questioned his goals, his plans. College had helped him see the bigger picture. It had changed him from a selfish teenager to a man with a plan to restore everything his family had lost.
And yet he’d never felt it was quite enough. Even now, he couldn’t go to the café or to church without noticing the skeptical looks. People doubted his intentions. The other day his sister had asked him if all of this—the house, the ranch, the cattle—was for his parents or to ease his guilty conscience.
Where did Sierra fit into this plan of his?
“You’re woolgathering again,” Aldridge called out. “We’ve got a half dozen head to go. And I’d rather not have to take you to the ER.”
“I’m on it,” Max called back, moving in behind the cattle, the dog staying close to his side. “Easy, now.”
The dog whined. The chute closed around another heifer. His dad and Richard worked quickly, the chute opened and the heifer ran across the field to join the rest of the herd.
“What are we doing next?” he called out.
His dad motioned him to keep the cattle moving. “I thought I’d eat a sandwich and then I’m going to fix the fence along the road before we put cattle on that twenty acres.”
“I can go get our supplies and we’ll be ready to go.”
“Sounds good to me. We can finish up here if you want to load the truck.”
Another heifer moved through the chute. “Yeah, I can do that.”
Max walked across the yard to the big barn that had been on the property for several decades. He and his sisters had played in that barn as kids.
The dog his dad had adopted from the shelter ran across the yard to join him. He gave the mixed-breed, wiry-haired dog a pat on the head and opened the truck door to let the animal jump in.
“Going with me?” he asked the dog.
The dog barked.
“Yeah, well, you’re not driving, so get over.” Max pushed the dog so he could scoot behind the wheel. He needed to back up to the side door of the barn and load new posts, fencing and tools.
His dad joined him after the truck was loaded. He had a thermos of coffee and a bag of what looked like cookies.
“Where’s Richard?” he asked his dad.
“He’s going to work on the barn repairs. The spot on the roof that leaks, the floor of the hayloft. All of the little things that haven’t been kept up.”
“Sounds good. Let’s go build some fence.”
“Got everything?”
“I think so. It’s been a while since I fixed fence. I think I did miles of it as punishment when I was a kid, so I doubt I’ve forgotten the basics.”
His dad grinned as he scanned the supplies. “Yeah, you’ve got it all. I have to tell you, it feels pretty good to be out here working this land again.”
“Dad...” Max started, “I want to thank you. For everything.”
“Max, I don’t have a lot of regrets. I would have regretted not giving my kids the best I could give them. Selling this place put us in a position to help you get your life together. It got you and your sisters an education. It wasn’t without sacrifice, for any of us, but it was worth it.”
“I put you through a lot.”
His dad patted the dog that had jumped into the back of the truck. He grinned at Max. “Yeah, you weren’t exactly easy. But you turned out okay. Now, let’s go build some fence. We could spend all day worrying about what’s already done, or we can spend the day on what matters right now.”
They drove down to the section of fence that needed repairing. For the next few hours they pounded in new posts, pulled fence, replaced fence and talked. They also took time to rest, sitting on the tailgate of the truck and drinking from the thermos of coffee Aldridge had brought from the house.
“You know, son, sometimes a man has to be willing to take a chance.”
The non sequitur surprised Max. They’d just been talking about fencing and cattle.
“I think I’ve taken plenty of those,” Max said. “I’ve started two companies from scratch and bought into another.”
“Not those kinds of chances, not that you haven’t done well. I think you have to take a chance and let yourself get invested in a relationship. Maybe ask a woman out to dinner and show up, not just physically but emotionally.”
Max poured coffee into the extra mug. “I just haven’t found a way to balance my time between work and a social life. It gets complicated.”
“I guess someday, if the ri
ght woman comes along, you’ll make time.”
“I guess I will.” But he didn’t see that happening anytime soon.
As soon as the thought crossed his mind, another thought took its place. Sierra Lawson. She’d been on his mind way too often.
They were loading supplies back into the truck when a car pulled up on the highway. Patsy Jay got out and he could see that she was worried. Max and his dad headed for the fence and she met them on the other side.
“Is everything okay?” Max asked.
“It’s just...” Patsy bit down on her bottom lip. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. I left a message on Sierra’s phone, but she hasn’t called back. I just got a call from my mom. She lives in Grove and she’s going to the ER with chest pains. I have older neighbors and younger neighbors, but no one I really trust to watch my kids. I was heading that way but I saw you and...” She let the words trail off. “This is so embarrassing. I don’t want you to think the wrong...”
“Now, don’t you worry about a thing,” Aldridge said. “We’re friends, Patsy. We don’t mind helping with your kids.”
“Are you sure?” Patsy looked from his father to him.
Max gave a quick nod but he had to admit, this was pretty far outside his comfort zone. He’d never seen himself as a babysitter. Patsy’s three children were cute but they also required food and diaper changes. He could clean out a stall, doctor a calf, but kids were a whole different ball game.
“Might want to call Mom and see if she’s on her way,” he told his dad.
“Yep, got her on the line.”
Max managed to smile for Patsy, who looked like she was holding on by a thread.
“Bring them up to the house and we’ll meet you there.”
She hurried back to her car and her children. Max returned to the truck, where his dad had already gotten behind the wheel.
“Good practice for you.” Aldridge grinned at Max.
Max climbed in and slammed the door to make sure it latched. “You need a new farm truck.”
“That doesn’t make any sense at all,” his dad told him. “This old truck has a lot of miles left on it, and you don’t bring a new truck to the field to get bumped around by angry bulls, scratched up by rambunctious steers. Nah, I’ll keep this old truck till it falls apart.”
Patsy met them at the house. She had the back door of the car open and was helping her kids out of their car seats. Linnie grinned when she saw him and headed his way holding Teddy’s hand. Patsy lifted Johnny from the infant seat and held him close, the diaper bag on her other arm.
“I just got a call from Sierra and she said she’d come right over to help.” Patsy shifted her youngest son and Max reached for the child. “I appreciate this so much. You understand, I don’t know how long I’ll be gone...”
“Go, and don’t worry about a thing, the kids will be fine and we’ll be fine taking care of them.”
His dad shot him a look that Max tried to ignore. He put his hat on Teddy’s head and herded the children toward the house while Patsy called out last-minute instructions that he would probably forget.
An SUV pulled off the main road onto the drive. Sierra. She’d wasted no time coming to the rescue of Patsy and her children. He ignored the “gotcha” look on his dad’s face.
Chapter Eleven
Max stood at the edge of the lawn, a baby clinging to his neck and Patsy’s toddler and preschooler clinging to his legs. She parked, waved at Patsy, who was departing, and smiled at the man whose expression begged for help. She sat there for a moment willing herself not to laugh. She’d had a long day, though, and this situation brought some lightness to her mood that she hadn’t expected.
She grabbed her purse and got out of her car. Bub hopped out and stood next to her. Sierra rested her hand on his head and led him around to the back of the car where she could better see the situation at hand.
Max’s dad was trying to convince Linnie to take his hand. He had bent down to her level and was telling her a story that had the little girl grinning, but she didn’t appear to be ready to let go of Max. For a moment he touched her head, a reassuring gesture.
Her hero.
Sierra couldn’t help it. A man who would volunteer for this was a man worth knowing.
“A little help, please?” he said.
She chuckled, not moving from the rear of her car. He was too adorable standing there in his cowboy hat, dust-covered jeans and scuffed-up boots with those three children clinging to him.
There was something about a cowboy holding a baby.
Then her heart did something strange. It felt like the first flower of spring just beginning to open after being tightly closed up against the cold of winter.
“Sierra?”
She closed the distance between them finally. His father had gone on to the house, thinking Sierra must have experience. Because wouldn’t most women her age?
“Johnny, you sleepy little baby,” she crooned in the voice she’d heard Kylie use with children. “We should go in and get you down for a nap.”
She held out her arms to the baby and he allowed her to take him. She’d unclipped Bub’s leash and the dog remained next to her.
Johnny snuggled close and he smelled of baby powder and lavender. “Oh, he doesn’t smell bad today.”
“They don’t always smell bad,” Max said. He picked up Linnie and Teddy in his arms. The two children giggled as he swung them around. “Do they?”
“Maybe not.” She held Johnny close as they walked through the front door. Max led her to the kitchen.
“There’s something in the slow cooker. Mom and Nonni went to Tulsa. Melody will be home later.”
“It smells really good. What is it?” she asked.
“Nonni’s roast. Meat, tomatoes, curry, parsnips, carrots and potatoes.”
Sierra’s mouth watered at the aromas seeping from the cooker. “Can they eat that?”
“As far as I know.” He walked to the door to the dining room. “Dad, do you know what kids can eat?”
They heard a loud laugh from the stairs and a few minutes later Aldridge joined them in the kitchen. “Yeah, I think I can help you all out with that.”
“The roast should be okay for them, shouldn’t it?” Sierra asked.
“Oh, sure. For the older two, it’s fine. It’s been cooking all day, so it’s nice and tender. Just cut it all up in small bites. You can mash up those vegetables for the little one.” Aldridge tickled Johnny and the baby giggled. “Now, that is a fine little man. It was a shame about the accident. Patsy’s husband was coming home from work and got hit by someone texting and driving. A real shame.”
“It was a senseless tragedy,” Sierra agreed. She held the boy out to Max’s father. “Do you want to hold him?”
“No, I don’t reckon I do. You look like you’re doing just fine and I’ve got calves to feed. You all think you can manage?”
“Dad, you don’t have calves to feed.”
“Well, I have something to do.” Faster than a jackrabbit, Aldridge was out the door.
“So, about feeding these children...” she said. “Let me see if Johnny will sit on the floor with his brother and sister, and we can fix their plates,” Sierra offered.
She tried to put the baby on the floor but he clung to her and cried. Bub, worried by the commotion, nudged at the baby with his whiskery nose. Johnny stopped crying for a brief moment then started again.
“What do I do with him?” she asked Max.
“Hold him. I’m sure he’ll stop crying soon.”
“Maybe he likes cookies. Cookies always make me happy.” Sierra found a cookie jar and grabbed a cookie for the baby and one for herself. “Do you think it’s okay to give him this?”
“Of course it is.” Max smiled at her as she offered the cookie to the baby. “You’re doing just fine.
”
“Am I? Really? Because what if he has peanut allergies?”
“Don’t worry so much. I’ve heard children are basically indestructible.”
“I don’t think that’s the case.” She looked down at the baby, who continued to cry. “Play some music. Babies like music.”
He spoke to the speaker on the counter and music began to play. Sierra started to dance around the room with Johnny in her arms. He sobbed a few times but then his tears stopped.
As she moved around the kitchen with the baby, Max fixed plates and got the other two children seated at the table.
“You figured it out,” Max said as he poured cups of milk for Teddy and Linnie.
“I can’t do this all night.” Already her right leg had begun to tighten. She paused for a moment to relax the muscles.
“Are you okay?” Max came up behind her and reached for Johnny. “I’ll take a turn.”
“We make a pretty good team.” She gave him a look, imploring him to not comment, and he didn’t. His attention had shifted to the children at the table. Sierra hurried over.
Linnie had her face down in her plate, licking carrots off the stoneware.
“Linnie, use the fork.” She grabbed the small fork and helped the little girl to hold it.
Linnie looked at the fork, picked up a piece of meat with her fingers and plopped it into her mouth. She grinned and made happy noises. “Mmm.”
“Is it good?” Sierra asked.
The little girl nodded and scooped more food into her mouth, chewing happily.
Teddy seemed more amenable to her help with the fork. Sierra scooped him up a bite and put it in his mouth. Bub waited nearby, hoping for scraps. Teddy obliged, dropping a parsnip on the floor. Bub sniffed and then sat back on his haunches. Not a fan of parsnips.
“No more of that, little man,” Sierra scolded with a smile as she grabbed a napkin to clean up the floor.
She glanced up at Max, watching, Johnny in his arms. He swayed with the little boy, who now had his head on Max’s shoulder, eyelids drooping as he dozed off.
The Rancher's Holiday Hope Page 11