The Cowboy's Christmas Blessings

by Jill Kemerer

  “Yep, and time’s a tickin’.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “I know you didn’t. I’m teasing you.” Stu wagged his finger toward Judd’s face. “A marriage is a good place to start when you’re estate planning.”

  “I’m not getting married just to name someone in my will.”

  “That would be foolish. I agree. But if a special someone were to come along, you’d best rent a tux and get to the church.”

  “I’ve never rented a tux in my life.” He regretted the words the instant they came out.

  “There’s a first time for everything, son.” Stu clapped his hand on Judd’s shoulder. “Come on. Let’s pick out the wood for Gretchen’s present.”

  Judd followed him to a pole barn. There had to be a better way to plan his estate than to get married. He didn’t want to spend the rest of his life on pins and needles waiting for his bride to get fed up with him and leave. If his previous relationships were any indication, that was exactly what he had to look forward to.

  Naming Dallas or Clay in his will might be his best option.

  * * *

  Early Saturday afternoon, Nicole carefully arranged her long hair into a messy, but not too messy, bun on top of her head. She’d actually put on makeup as well. With a few pumps of hair spray and a quick swipe of raspberry-colored lip gloss, she deemed herself ready.

  Ready for what?

  Judd’s handsome face danced through her mind.

  Baking. I’m ready for the baking.

  On her way to the living room, she paused in front of the babies’ room—she’d put them down for a nap a few minutes ago—and hearing nothing, she continued forward. Thursday night Judd had dropped off all the ingredients on her list. And yesterday morning, Jane Boyd had shown up in full grandmother mode. Jane was a former church choir director, who could probably handle six babies at once. The woman had taken charge and shooed Nicole out of the way.

  Exactly what she’d needed. She’d been thrilled to find out Jane would be coming every Friday. As the woman sang to the babies in their bouncy seats, Nicole had used the time to whip up a few batches of gingerbread dough to chill. And last night she’d finished cutting out the wall templates and taped them together to make a model of the house. She couldn’t wait to show it to Judd.

  Checking the time, she frowned. The triplets would be napping for two hours. It wouldn’t be enough time to roll out and bake all of the walls. She’d need to make more dough at some point in there, too, because the house was going to be on the large side, the size of a small dollhouse.

  A few taps on the door sent her pulse racing. She practically tripped over her own feet on her way to open it. Judd stood there, his Carhartt unzipped, a navy Henley hugging his abs, cowboy hat tilted just so on his dark hair. His lips curved up, and her heartbeat thumped in her chest.

  Who knew a cowboy could look so good?

  “Come in.” She waved him inside. She didn’t notice the piece of wood he’d tucked under his arm until he set it on the floor against the wall. “Is that the base?”

  “Yes. Stu Miller made it for me. It’s nice, isn’t it?”

  “Wow, he’s talented.” She picked it up and admired the smooth stained piece he’d made alternating two types of wood. “He did this so quickly, too.”

  As Judd shimmied out of his jacket, she averted her eyes. Those broad shoulders were not to be looked at or temptation might strike. Checking out the man who’d generously blessed her with this cabin would be inappropriate. Not to mention it would be embarrassing if he caught her. Instead, she strode to the dining table, where she’d constructed the paper house. Judd joined her.

  “You did all this?” He let out a low whistle. “You could have been an architect. It looks exactly like the picture. And you labeled them all, too.”

  She tried not to let his compliment go to her head, but she was pretty sure her heart was lit up like the Christmas tree in downtown Rendezvous. “The labels help with construction. I made some dough last night so we could start baking right away.”

  “What should I do?” He rubbed his hands together.

  “Why don’t you take apart the paper walls and bring them to me. I’ll start rolling out the dough so we can cut them out.” She went into the kitchen and turned on the oven to preheat it.

  “Got it.” He took one step then paused. “What do you say we put on some Christmas music?”

  Christmas music? Her stomach lurched. She’d been avoiding it as much as possible, afraid a chorus of festive music would bring back the nightmare she’d gone through last year.

  Aaron’s persistent cough. The misdiagnosis. The tests. Then the ICU. Holding his hand night and day as he’d fought for his life.

  The endless tears she’d cried.

  The panic in her soul.

  Not being able to eat. Worrying not only for her husband, but also for the precious three lives in her womb. Pleading with God in the hospital chapel.

  What if a few bars of “Holly Jolly Christmas” threw her right back into the black place she’d been last December?

  “Nicole?” Concern flickered through Judd’s eyes.

  She forgot to breathe, forgot where she was momentarily. She shook her head. “I don’t want to wake the triplets.”

  Great, now she was a liar, too.

  “Actually, it’s not that.” She stared down at her feet, having no words to explain and not wanting to if she had them. “Go ahead. Put the music on.”

  She pivoted, made a beeline for the sheet pans and started tearing off parchment paper to line them. If the memories came and she fell apart... No. She was stronger now, better than she’d been last year. She’d be fine. The dough would distract her. Where was the supersharp knife she always used for cutting out the walls?

  Her nerves were ping-ponging around like popcorn popping. So what? It didn’t mean she was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

  “We don’t have to have music.”

  She almost jumped. Judd had followed her into the kitchen.

  “It’s okay. Really.” She attempted a smile but the dread in her gut overrode it. “’Tis the season, right?”

  “Don’t you like Christmas?” He leaned against the counter, watching her with a thoughtful expression.

  “I do. Everyone likes Christmas.” Her shrill tone made her cringe.

  “You don’t have to pretend with me, Nicole.” He was right. She didn’t have to pretend with him. Out of everyone in Rendezvous, he had not once pressured her to talk about her feelings or open up about her grief or any of the other things her well-meaning friends had urged her to do.

  “It’s...” She didn’t know how to put it into words. “I can’t explain it.”

  “You don’t have to.” The kindness in his eyes brought a different kind of ache to her heart. “We’ll skip the music.”

  And that was why she never should have volunteered to make this gingerbread house with Judd Wilson.

  He got her in a way no one else did.

  Not trusting herself to speak, she nodded and picked up her rolling pin. Then she took out an oval of dough and began rolling it out onto a sheet of parchment paper. After measuring it for the precise thickness—all the walls needed to be uniform—she stood back and eyed it.

  “Do you have any of the paper walls untaped?” she asked.

  “I’ll bring them over.” He’d stacked them as he’d separated them. His hand brushed hers as he passed them to her. The hair on her arms rose at his touch, and the smell of his skin was a melding of pine and spice and fresh air.

  The kitchen seemed to shrink, and all she could hear was the faint sound of the furnace kicking on. Well, that and her thumping heartbeat.

  She hadn’t felt this jumpy since she’d downed three energy drinks and feared she was having a stroke the week she’d start
ed at the bakery.

  If pure silence only magnified Judd’s presence here, maybe she’d be better off with the Christmas tunes. It would remind her of Aaron. Then she wouldn’t do anything stupid. Like get too close to Judd.

  “On second thought, why don’t you play some Christmas music. I have a small speaker you can link your phone to.” She waved in the direction of the living room. “It’s next to the television.”

  “Are you sure? I’ll keep the volume low.”

  She nodded, not sure at all. Leafing through the templates, she selected the ones that would fit on the rolled-out dough. Then she cut them out, put the excess dough on a piece of wax paper, pricked the walls and slid them onto a half-sheet pan. After sliding it into the oven, she set the timer and grabbed another batch from the fridge.

  An instrumental version of “Greensleeves” floated through the speaker, and she froze.

  Memories of last year barreled in. The smells and beeps and harsh lights in the hospital she’d tucked away all rushed back. The raw fear, the pleading prayers, the terror of losing the man who had been her rock for most of her life was still there. Still a part of her.

  It would always be a part of her.

  No matter what the rest of her life held, the years with Aaron would never be erased. She didn’t want them to be, even though his final weeks had brought so much sadness.

  Bracing her hands against the counter, she closed her eyes and willed the tightness in her throat to subside. She sensed Judd behind her and, turning, slowly opened her eyes.

  The man was solid. Real. Healthy. Understanding. And he stood there with an air of you can lean on me, so she did. She stepped closer and wrapped her arms around his waist, letting her cheek rest against his chest. The softness of his shirt, the warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart comforted her. And then his arms slipped behind her back, holding her gently as if she might break.

  She couldn’t break, though.

  She’d already been broken.

  As the seconds stretched to a minute, she couldn’t help wishing he’d hold her forever.

  Forever?

  She snapped back to reality and pulled away, keeping her gaze down. No man had held her except Aaron. Shouldn’t she hate the sensation? Fight it? Or, at the very least, be uncomfortable?

  She certainly shouldn’t like it as much as she did.

  “I’m sorry.” Nicole took a few more steps backward, touching the back of her hair as she shook her head. What could she say? She didn’t want him to know how much she liked being in his arms. “I’ve been avoiding reminders of last year.”

  “I should have realized...”

  “No, you didn’t know. I guess I didn’t want to get sucked into the bad memories from Christmas.”

  “But you did get sucked in, didn’t you? I’ll turn off the music. In fact, I can leave. This isn’t a good time.” He moved away.

  “Wait—you can keep it on.” She didn’t want him to leave. This was gingerbread day. She’d been looking forward to it all week. The last thing she wanted to do was dwell on where she was at a year ago. “I can’t exactly avoid Christmas forever, you know. And this is a good time. I’ll roll out these walls, and you can cut them out, okay?”

  His eyes searched hers, and she was certain he could see all the way to the very memories she feared. Finally, he nodded. “I’ll finish taking the tape off the walls.”

  She picked up the rolling pin and tried to get a grip on her emotions. Smoothing out the dough calmed her nerves, and when “Holly Jolly Christmas” came on, an older memory came back of her ice-skating with Stella when they were kids.

  Not every memory was bad. Not all Christmas songs led back to Aaron.

  “Are you ready to cut?” She motioned for Judd to join her.

  Maybe getting through this Christmas wasn’t about avoiding the past, but making peace with it.

  * * *

  “This doesn’t look right.” Judd tried to fit the final two paper walls on the sheet of dough Nicole rolled out, but they kept overlapping. They’d been baking for hours and taking plenty of breaks to care for the triplets, who were lined up in bouncy seats nearby.

  Nicole had been quiet after he’d held her but, after a while, she’d begun to open up. She told him about growing up without a dad, and how she and her mom didn’t always see eye to eye. She also shared how she and Aaron had become inseparable in elementary school, and how she’d relied on him throughout her life. Judd even found himself thankful she’d had Aaron, which surprised him. He himself could never live up to the guy, but he was glad Nicole had been blessed with a good husband. She deserved it.

  He, in turn, told her how he’d grown up in the city but never felt at home there. He hadn’t talked much about his parents, though. He and Nicole had shared a few laughs about his attempts at playing soccer in third grade. Kicking a ball down a field had never made much sense to him.

  An hour ago, he’d held Henry and fed him his bottle while Nicole fed the other two. Of course, she’d told Judd he didn’t have to, but he’d wanted to. Today was turning out to be one of the best days he’d had in ages.

  From behind him, Nicole peered over his shoulder. He turned to see what she wanted. The stray hairs from her bun curled around her face, tempting him to push them back behind her ear. She pointed to the dough. “If you turn this one, they should both fit.”

  “Oh.” He flipped it around. “You’re right.”

  “Of course I’m right.” Her toothy grin had him shaking his head. He couldn’t remember ever feeling this relaxed with a woman before.

  He still felt guilty about the Christmas music earlier. It hadn’t occurred to him hearing it would make her sad. He should have picked up on her cues. But holding her, comforting her after? He’d probably regret it at some point, but right now he didn’t.

  Having her in his arms had felt right—more than right. Like sitting before a crackling fire after a long day out in the cold. Or watching a herd of wild horses running free on the farthest borders of his land. Not a lot touched his soul, but having Nicole in his arms sure had.

  “Are your parents still alive, Judd?”

  “Yes.”

  “Tell me about them.”

  His parents? He’d rather not. He finished cutting out the pieces and pierced the dough the way she’d shown him. “There’s not much to tell.”

  “Give me the short version.” She checked the batch baking in the oven and closed the oven door. “We’ve got another ten minutes before this needs to come out. Let’s sit in the living room.”

  Together, they moved the babies to the living room.

  “They could use a little tummy time.” Nicole placed Amelia, stomach down, on a quilted mat, then laid Henry next to her. When she added Eli to the group, the boy cried loud and hard.

  “I’ll take him.” Judd gestured for her to hand him the baby. He kept Eli on his lap and watched Nicole praise Amelia and Henry for craning their necks and attempting to shift positions.

  Judd had been awestruck watching her juggle the babies and bake all day. If the children fussed, she moved them to bouncy seats or played with them on the floor for a few minutes. Her phone alarm alerted her to feeding times and nap times. When they all got cranky, she calmly attended to each one until they stopped crying.

  She was amazing.

  “I take it you don’t have any siblings?” With a burp cloth, Nicole wiped the drool spilling from Amelia’s mouth onto the mat.

  “No,” he said. “Just me.”

  “Parents—together or divorced?”

  “Together, still living near Boston. For the moment, anyhow. They bought a condo in Saint Thomas.”

  “Oh, a warm island sounds so good right now. Have you gone down there? If your parents have a condo, it’s like your own vacation spot, right?” She made cute faces at Henry, who grunt
ed and stretched his legs as he tried to roll to his side.

  “I’m afraid not. They purchased it recently.” Normally, he’d downplay or not discuss his parents, but Nicole hadn’t held back telling him her feelings about her mom. He figured he owed her the same candor. “I called them the other night. I was going to visit them after Christmas, and that’s when Mom told me they’d bought the condo. They’re probably on their way down to Saint Thomas now.”

  “I’m sorry.” Her lips turned down in sympathy. “Looks like we’re both on our own for Christmas this year.”

  “I’m used to it. I always spend Christmas with Aunt Gretchen. My parents are too busy to get together with me.” He hoped he didn’t sound bitter. “I sometimes wonder if the nurses switched me with their real son at birth. I couldn’t be more opposite from them.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “They spend most nights socializing. I prefer to be alone.”

  She chuckled. “I understand. My mom and sister are a lot alike, too. Their top priority is having a man in their life. I guess I shouldn’t talk. I always had Aaron.”

  Henry made spitting noises with his tongue. And then he rolled onto his back.

  “Did you see that?” Nicole rose on her knees, pointing to Henry. “He rolled over!”

  She scooped up the baby and rained kisses on both cheeks before planting one on his tummy. The boy squealed with delight.

  “He’s strong, isn’t he?” Judd couldn’t drag his gaze away from Nicole’s sparkling eyes and the way she loved on Henry. Eli, meanwhile, began to get cranky. Judd tried to make the baby comfortable.

  “Yes, a lot of babies roll over even earlier, but I haven’t been worried.” She set Henry back down on the quilt as Eli squawked.

  “Oh, Eli, I didn’t forget about you. No need to be jealous.” She took him from Judd to lay him down on his stomach with his siblings. He fussed a little bit, and Nicole set a small stuffed cat within his reach. “You wait. He’ll be rolling over in the next day or two.”