The Rancher's Holiday Hope

by Brenda Minton

  “She’s got her life and her children. If she hadn’t been at the hospital with her mom...” Jack left the rest unsaid.

  “Hopefully she’ll see that as a blessing,” Max said. “It’s going to be hard to see any blessings when she’s faced with this just weeks before Christmas, when she’s been trying so hard to get her life together.”

  Jack sighed. “She’s got a place at the ranch as long as she needs it. But there are other options. I’ve got something in mind.”

  “What’s that?” Isaac asked.

  “Remember the Cutter place that I bought a few months ago? Got it for a good price but it needs a lot of work. I wasn’t planning on keeping it, I just didn’t want it to fall down.”

  “That’s the house in town, on Sunset Drive?” Max asked.

  “That’s the one. Not a big house but three bedrooms. Needs quite a bit of work.”

  “How do we get started on this?” Isaac asked.

  “It needs a few new windows, some drywall, fresh paint, new appliances and some updates.” Jack rubbed a hand across his chin. “You boys go have a look, tell me what you think. But let’s keep this under our hats. I think if we’re going to do something like this, we ought to make it the nicest Christmas gift Patsy has ever had. If we say too much, she might try to talk us out of it.”

  “We’ll go see what we can do with it,” Isaac told his father. “You in on this, St. James?”

  Max nodded and headed for his truck. “I’m in on it. Meet you there.”

  “I have to drive my dad home first. I’ll be there in a half hour.”

  Max drove the short distance to town and turned down the narrow street that had the wondrous name of Sunset. He guessed the street faced west. The houses were small but clean, the yards neat. The house Jack had bought sat the end of the street. The yard was a good size, the back fenced. A swing hung from an old oak tree.

  The place had potential. In a normal situation, Max would guess it needed weeks, maybe months, of work. In this situation, with everyone pitching in, surely they could have it done by Christmas.

  He got out of his truck and walked up to the house. It had good lines. The roof was straight. The house seemed to be structurally sound. A car pulled up behind his. Not Isaac.

  Sierra. She smiled and headed his way. “Buying yourself a house?” she asked.

  “Nope.” He wasn’t letting the secret out of the bag. “What are you doing out so early? And driving, not running.”

  She whistled and Bub jumped from the car to join her.

  “Bub asked me not to take too many runs like that. He didn’t enjoy it. It made his feet sore for a couple of days.”

  “I can imagine.” He walked up on the front porch of the house and studied the beams. It didn’t surprise him that she hadn’t answered the question about being out so early. “How’s Patsy this morning?”

  “I left them sleeping. I figured they didn’t need to get up early today.”

  “That’s probably good.”

  “About last night,” she said. “Thank you. For the hot chocolate. For making sure I was okay. I know I send the wrong signals at times, but I’m working on that. I want you to know that I appreciated your kindness.”

  “I’m glad I could be there to show you that kindness, Sierra.”

  She slipped her hand into his. The gesture seemed odd at first, as if she wasn’t comfortable with it. They walked off the porch and around the house.

  “Do you think Patsy and the children could live here?” she asked.

  “Well, I’m not really sure what to say to that.”

  “Oh, I see.” She gave his hand a squeeze and let go. The dog pushed his way between them, as if making sure Max understood that there were boundaries.

  “Do you?” he asked.

  “Yes, it’s a surprise, right?”

  It was a surprise. The way she was a surprise. For him, at least. Maybe other people knew the little things about her. She was generous, funny, kind. He was discovering those things one layer at a time.

  “I promised not to say anything,” he admitted.

  “It’s okay, I have it figured out. We’re having a get-together tomorrow at the apartment, but you’re not invited,” Sierra told him.

  “Why is that and what are you doing?”

  She gave him a secretive smile. “I can’t tell. Not unless you tell.”

  “That isn’t fair. But you can ask Jack and he’ll probably tell you.”

  “Oh, I will ask him. If he’s planning a Christmas surprise, I want to know.”

  “I’m sure you do.”

  “I do. I’m suddenly very Christmassy.”

  Sierra continued to walk next to him and he realized he liked her there, her fingers brushing against his. She also made him feel regret. Because he wouldn’t be here long enough to get to know her better. Because he thought if they got too close, she would back away.

  “We’ll be working on the honeymoon blanket for Melody,” she told him. “Also, they want to discuss the Christmas at the Ranch event. Pastor Stevens has a schedule and route for the church buses that will be picking people up.”

  “Do you have everything that you’ll need?”

  “The food is taken care of. We also have clothes and shoe donations, both new and gently used.”

  “This event is going to touch so many lives,” he said as they came to the swing. He motioned for her to sit and she did.

  He gave the swing a gentle push.

  “This event has changed my life,” Sierra said as the swing took her away from him.

  “It wasn’t exactly on my to-do list, either,” he admitted. “But I’m glad they asked for my help.”

  “And now Jack has roped you into another project,” Sierra told him. “This house.”

  “Do you think Patsy will like this?”

  “I think she’ll love it. And it has a fenced-in backyard for the children.”

  “That would ease Patsy’s mind, I’m sure. Sierra, I...” Just then a truck pulled up in front of the house. Maybe it was better that he’d gotten interrupted. He’d been on the verge of asking her to have dinner with him. Not a meal with his parents, or something at the café. A real date. Just the two of them.

  Definitely the wrong direction for his thoughts to be going. She didn’t need to be another woman he left sitting, waiting for him to show up. Not that he could imagine ever forgetting her.

  She glanced toward the drive where Isaac had parked and then at him. “Max?”

  He shook his head. “Nothing. I need to get back to the ranch.”

  “Oh, okay.” She looked confused and he thought that made sense. He was pretty confused, too.

  That was a very good reason to walk away. He didn’t want to go into this feeling confused or worried that he might be the next person to hurt her.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The women invited to Sierra’s apartment Tuesday evening were not the quietest bunch.

  Kylie and Melody had invited Rebecca West, Nonni, Doreena and Jack’s housekeeper, Maria. Or perhaps she was his girlfriend. No one really questioned him in that regard. Patsy was also included, as was Holly from the café, Tish Stevens, the wife of Pastor Stevens, and several women that Sierra didn’t know.

  “Come and join us,” Kylie told her after allowing her to pretend to make coffee for ten minutes.

  “I’ll be right there. I’m going to put the coffee in carafes and put out a few goodies for us to snack on.”

  She was making a tray of snacks when Melody joined her in the kitchen. Not for the first time Sierra noticed shadows under the younger woman’s eyes.

  “Do you need help with anything?” Melody asked as she entered the room.

  “I’m good. I could ask the same of you.” Sierra refilled the coffee maker with water and started a fresh pot.
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br />   “Me?” Melody asked.

  “I work with a lot of brides and each one is different. Each wedding is different. But they’re all very happy. Are you happy about your upcoming wedding, Melody?”

  Melody walked to the sink and looked out the window, keeping her back to Sierra. “To be honest, I just don’t need all of this. I did it for Mom and Nonni.”

  “Then you need to tell them what you want. There can be compromises. Do what you love.” Sierra caught herself by surprise. It echoed what Jack had encouraged her to do. She had spent a lifetime making choices based on what was the best way out, never on what she really, truly wanted.

  “Do what I love?” Melody leaned against the counter to watch Sierra place cupcakes and cookies on the tray.

  “Isn’t it your wedding?” Sierra asked, looking up from the tray.

  “You’re only having this conversation with me because you dislike weddings,” Melody teased.

  “Maybe, but I don’t dislike yours as much as some. You don’t want two hundred white Christmas trees in the ceremony.”

  Melody laughed. “No, I don’t.”

  “So?”

  “Okay. Here’s what I want. Two hundred fewer people, the ceremony at our church, a cake that you make, and pastries and appetizers made by Nonni. That’s what I would pick, if it was up to me.”

  “Then let’s do that,” Sierra suggested.

  “I think it’s too late.”

  Sierra stepped forward and put her arm around the younger woman’s shoulders. “It’s never too late. Do what you want.”

  “And what is it that you want, Sierra?” Melody teased.

  “A few less nosy friends,” Sierra said as they walked back to the living area where the women were working their needles through the pieces of fabric.

  “The honeymoon quilt!” Melody exclaimed. “This is something I will always cherish. Not just the quilt, but the memories of making it.”

  With this group of strong females surrounding her, Sierra wondered if Melody had ever offered up one idea on her own wedding. But Melody was strong, too. She would survive this and she’d give her own ideas on her wedding. Even if it meant canceling the wedding at the Stable.

  Everyone laughed as Kylie stepped into the circle to sew her patch onto the quilt. She poked her finger more than once and her seam had to be redone by Nonni. Sierra waited at the edge of the group. The laughter, the people who loved one another. This tradition should be a part of every wedding.

  Nonni motioned her forward. “Come on, Sierra, your turn. Smile, smile, this is a good thing.”

  “I’m afraid I’ll ruin it. I sew worse than Kylie.”

  Everyone laughed. Nonni pulled her forward. “I don’t think that is possible.”

  “Oh, I guarantee it.” Sierra took the piece of material and, with Nonni’s help, sewed the square into place.

  “Look at that. Very good. Straight, even seams. Look at Kylie’s. Never accept her help in hemming your dress. Finish sewing your pieces of the quilt and then we will bring it all together.”

  Sierra sewed several more pieces of fabric together. For a minute she watched the other women as they laughed and carried on conversations about their homes, their lives and families. She didn’t have anything to share. Bub nudged at her hand. She patted him but he nudged again.

  “Time to go out?” she asked the dog. He stared up at her with soulful eyes. “Of course it is. Let me grab the leash.”

  Kylie caught her eye as she snuck out with the dog. She gave a little wave and a nod. Sierra nodded back, thanking her. The evening was cold and she pulled on the jacket she’d grabbed on her way out.

  As she slid her arms into the sleeves, the expensive evergreen, mountain scent of Max St. James closed in around her. How had his scent gotten so thoroughly into her jacket?

  She walked to the barn. It was the last place she typically went, but Bub seemed intent on heading that way.

  Bub took a trail that added twice the distance to the short walk. They walked through the front of the building into a different world, surrounded by the smell of hay and pine shavings and the sounds of horses shuffling in their stalls.

  It was peaceful. She walked down the wide aisle between stalls. A small gray head peeked over one stall. She stopped to pet the animal.

  “Ah-hh, how are you tonight, Buckshot?” She rubbed the horse’s jaw and the animal nuzzled her sleeve. He was always the horse that asked for attention when she visited the stable. She pulled a piece of candy out of her pocket, unwrapped it and the horse lipped it off her hand.

  Bub woofed in warning. He turned toward the closed doors she’d just come through.

  Max stepped through the door.

  “Bub, stay.” The dog whined but he stayed.

  “Were you going to sic your dog on me?” Max asked with a smile.

  “I would never do that, but you should announce yourself before you sneak up on a person.”

  He walked a little farther into the building. “Sneak? I opened a door and came in. What are you doing skulking around in here?”

  “I needed some air. There are a lot of women in there,” she said with a smile. “What are you doing here? Men don’t sew the honeymoon quilt, do they?”

  “No, but they drive the women back and forth from the sewing. My dad and I are visiting Jack. He sent me down here to look at your horse. I hope you aren’t too attached?”

  “To this old thing, never.” She pushed a little at the horse, who shoved his nose at her.

  “Never?” Max asked.

  “Never. Why would you want him?”

  “I’m going to lead him out of the stall,” Max told her as he reached for a lead rope hanging on the wall.

  “Okay, go ahead.” She stepped back to watch. The horse, not the man. Although both were lean and athletic with just the right amount of muscle.

  The horse was easier to trust. She kept him in his place, behind the door. They had an easy and uncomplicated friendship that she understood. Max was an unknown.

  He led the horse out of the stall and walked him up and down the aisle of the stable. Next he cross-tied him in the center of the aisle and stepped back to give him a long look. Sierra stood next to him to look at the animal. A big horse with nice eyes. And yet this was the horse Isaac and the other men on the ranch used to prank their friends because he always bucked at the initial contact with a rider.

  “Did they tell you he bucks?” she asked after several minutes of watching Max look the horse over and run his hands over the animal.

  He glanced back at her as he raised the horse’s legs to check its hooves. “Does he?”

  “Did they ask if you want to ride him?”

  “They might have,” he answered.

  “Hmm, they’ve never offered to sell him before.”

  Max gave the horse a pat on the neck as Sierra stepped forward to pet the animal. She ran a hand down his neck and he leaned in.

  “He seems to like you.”

  “We’re friends. I come out and visit him from time to time.”

  Max moved around the horse. “Have you ever ridden him?”

  “Are you kidding? I don’t want to get thrown.”

  “I have a feeling he wouldn’t throw you.”

  She arched a brow. “I’m not a horse person and I’ve been told a horse can sense that.”

  “He also knows you like him. I bet you even bring him treats.”

  “I don’t like him,” she insisted. The horse made a liar of her and nuzzled her pocket.

  He gave her a knowing look that was far too cute, his dark curls in disarray. “Yeah, you do.”

  “I have to go. I have...stuff to do.”

  She spun on her heels to leave and she could hear his laughter chasing after her. No way would she join her laughter with his. She was making
a grand exit. Or so she told herself. If she was being honest, she was running scared.

  But isn’t that what she always did when life got complicated?

  * * *

  Max studied the horse a bit longer, knowing he wouldn’t buy the animal. Not for himself. Maybe for Sierra. Maybe she needed this horse to truly belong here. To him, it seemed as if she wasn’t putting down roots in Hope. She was just biding her time and trying to figure out what came next for her.

  She attended church but, until recently, she hadn’t been too involved. She didn’t socialize much. She had avoided pets and friendships. She didn’t date.

  If she had roots, things that made her feel as if this was her home and not just the place she was staying, he thought it might take some of the shadows from her eyes. He looked at the horse again.

  “Is that how you feel?”

  The horse nudged at him. Max brushed a hand down the sleek gray neck and led the animal back to his stall. “I understand. I like her, too.”

  “Talking to yourself?”

  Max jumped and saw Isaac waving at him. “Did you want to ride him?”

  “Nope. I was told you all like to play this joke on people from time to time.”

  Isaac grinned. “Now, who told you that? Sierra?”

  “She was down here petting him,” Max told him. “I think she’s kind of attached to him. Why don’t you give him to her?”

  “That wouldn’t be nearly as interesting as selling you this horse and letting you give him to her. Nah, I don’t think I’ll give her this horse.” Isaac chewed on a piece of straw and stared at the horse then at Max. “Good thing I’m deaf in the left ear or I would have thought you said you like her.”

  “Good thing you can’t hear,” Max said. He latched the stall door and hung the lead back on the hook. The horse’s head came over the stall, lipping at Max’s jacket.

  “He wants this.” Isaac stepped forward with a chunk of carrot. “He likes treats. He doesn’t like men.”

  “I’ll buy him,” Max said. “If he’s really for sale.”

  “He wasn’t for sale and still isn’t. I do have some ethics. The people on this ranch are family. That makes Sierra kind of like a sister to me.”