The Cowboy's Christmas Blessings

by Jill Kemerer

  “She made it pretty clear she’ll never be ready.” When he thought about the envelope with the cash...he balled his hands into fists. How could he have been so stupid?

  A soft smile played on her lips. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that. I’ve seen her with you. I’ve spent many mornings with her and the triplets. She likes you, Judd.”

  The hope flaming to life was too much to bear.

  “I don’t think so. It’s too complicated. She’s not over Aaron.”

  “Hmm...” Gretchen picked up her teacup again. “I remember the one-year anniversary of my husband’s death. I was sure life would never get better. All I could think about was the future we’d never have. But at the time, I didn’t realize how life moves on and we move with it. Nicole is probably pretty confused right now. Let her get through Christmas.”

  It would be great if Aunt Gretchen was right, but he didn’t think she was.

  “I’ve been praying for you.” She smiled above the rim of the teacup. “I always pray for you. But I have a feeling Nicole moved in to your cabin for a reason.”

  Yeah, to break his heart.

  “Maybe God will listen to your prayers,” he said. He certainly hasn’t been listening to mine. But was that true? Judd hadn’t exactly prayed over the situation. In fact, he hadn’t prayed about his relationship with Nicole at all.

  “Keep asking, keep searching, keep knocking, honey. God wants nothing less.”

  “I will.” His aunt tended to be right.

  “And I will, too.”

  * * *

  Nicole hauled herself out of bed at four in the morning. She hadn’t slept at all. After Eden left, Nicole had stuck the gifts she’d wrapped for the babies under the tree. Then she’d moped for a while. In bed she’d tossed and turned for hours. And now she was plain sick of herself.

  Her fluffy robe called to her from the closet. She shuffled over and put it on. In all the fretting of last night, she’d avoided the one thing she should have been doing.

  Praying.

  Her prayers didn’t usually result in instant answers. But when she prayed, she could trust she’d be led to God’s will. And she usually felt peace about it.

  She plugged in the lights of the Christmas tree and sat on the couch, tucking her legs to the side. Where should she start? Her mind went blank.

  How about remembering what Christmas was all about?

  Dear Jesus, it’s Christmas again. First, I want to thank You for saving me, a sinner. I wish I was more in the Christmas spirit, but I’m not.

  The colored lights on the tree took the edge off her blues. She had much to be thankful for.

  Thank You for my babies, for keeping us all healthy and for this cabin. I love this cabin. You gave back baking to me and provided an income with it. Thank You for my friends and the women who generously give their time to help me every weekday.

  She wanted to thank Him for Judd, but she wasn’t ready. Anxiety gave her the jitters. Swiping through her phone, she opened a Bible app and read a psalm. But it didn’t help.

  Lord, I hate feeling this way. Can’t I skip Christmas this year? I don’t want to think about Aaron. I definitely don’t want to think about Judd.

  Her stomach wouldn’t stop clenching and unclenching.

  Fine. I give up. Here’s what’s really going on, Lord. I loved Aaron. And maybe it makes me a horrible person, but I don’t miss him the way I think I should. Now I see myself and my life differently. I’m sad, but I’m also looking forward to my future. I feel so guilty. Shouldn’t I be mourning still?

  The ticktock of the clock on the wall kept her company as she pushed away the other thoughts. But they kept coming.

  I don’t know what to do about Judd. He makes me feel...special. In a way I’ve never experienced, not even with Aaron. I’m so comfortable with him. What I feel for him is so different from what I felt for Aaron.

  She thought of the dark stairway her grief counselor talked about and the side door with the glowing exit sign next to it.

  Her worries about what people around town thought were down the stairwell, along with her in-laws’ opinions and her guilt about being disloyal to a dead man.

  But what was out the side door?

  Something Eden said last night came to mind. After Mia died, it took me a long time to find normal.

  Maybe that was what was bothering her.

  It hadn’t taken Nicole long at all to find normal.

  As soon as she’d moved in to this cabin, she’d found it.

  And Judd was part of her normal.

  She’d been trying to follow unspoken rules her entire life. Be a good girl. Don’t be like Mom. Devote your life to Aaron. Pour everything into the babies. Ignore your feelings. You’re in mourning.

  Everyone else followed the rules.

  She’d supported Aaron through basketball, his diagnosis, college and his career because he’d protected her as a kid and she was too afraid of what her life would look like without him.

  But now? The fear of making it on her own was gone. God would always provide a way. Look at what He’d already done in her life.

  She’d met her future spouse in second grade, only dated him, then had gotten married at eighteen. She became a widow at twenty-five when she was pregnant with triplets.

  Forget everyone else—she’d never even been like anyone else.

  The glowing exit sign in her mind beckoned. If she opened the side door, she knew what she would find. Three happy babies. A thriving home baking business. Good friends. And a quiet, handsome cowboy named Judd.

  The future was full of sunshine and cupcakes. If she was willing to go for it.

  All of her anxiety dissolved, and she was left with a strange peace. She couldn’t explain it. She felt empty. In a good way.

  She’d gotten through the worst year of her life.

  And she was ready to embrace the future she wanted.

  * * *

  Judd drove the tractor to feed the herd as the sun peeked over the horizon Christmas morning. Large snowflakes danced to the ground. His cows followed the line of feed, munching and enjoying their Christmas spread. To him it was a day like most others. Except he’d wadded up his heart last night and left it on his back porch for the wild animals to scavenge.

  Aunt Gretchen’s words had given him hope, but what good was hope? It would only get trampled down like the hay the cattle stomped on as they ate.

  Avoiding Nicole would be hard. He already missed holding the babies. He couldn’t stand the idea of not seeing Nicole’s smiling face across the table each evening. He didn’t even look forward to the thought of not having to make conversation. He actually liked making conversation with her.

  Last night before bed, he’d tried to pray, but he couldn’t find the right words. He didn’t know what he wanted to say. Leave it to him to not even be able to string the right words together in his head to tell the Lord.

  Maybe he should try again.

  God, I’m sorry I’m not good at praying. I wish You’d give Nicole what she needs. I realize that’s not me. All year I’ve thought about her and enjoyed her company. And these past few weeks...well, that woman and the triplets have become my world.

  He stared out at the white pastures before him. This ranch had been his whole world for twenty years.

  The land and cattle had been enough before. They would have to be enough now.

  When the hay was distributed, he turned around and headed back to the barn. A few of the cows looked up at him and mooed as he passed by.

  “Merry Christmas to you, too,” he yelled.

  After parking the tractor, he went to the stables to feed the horses and let them out. Candy’s ears pricked up as she nudged her nose at him.

  “Love you, too, Candy Cane.” He petted her nose and neck, then gave her an apple. “Merry Ch
ristmas.”

  He led her and Diesel and the other horses out to the pasture. They tossed their heads in the air as the snow fell. Propping his boot on the lowest fence rail, he watched them enjoy the weather.

  When the chill crept into his bones, he pushed away from the fence and strode to the house. After a quick shower, he poured a mug of coffee and sat in his living room, staring at the tall blue spruce he’d chopped down and decorated a few weeks ago.

  Today would be tough on Nicole. He didn’t like to think of her crying alone with the babies on Christmas Day. But she didn’t want him around.

  From the corner of his eye, the presents he’d bought her and the babies came into view. Maybe he should stop over there quick. To check on her. Give her the presents. Then he’d leave her alone for good.

  Why?

  He frowned. Why what? Why go over there or why leave her alone for good?

  A spurt of adrenaline made his pulse leap.

  Yesterday Nicole had told him Aaron was her whole life. And not an hour ago while feeding the cows, Judd had thought this ranch was his whole life.

  But his life had expanded to include her. And her children.

  And after Aaron had died, Nicole’s had expanded to include three babies.

  Was it possible her life could expand to include him, too?

  He hopped to his feet, causing the coffee to slosh out of his mug down his hand. He went to the kitchen and wiped it off with a paper towel.

  He’d always assumed the qualities that had kept him from falling in love and getting married were bad. That for whatever reason he wasn’t equipped for love or marriage.

  But maybe those qualities were the ones Nicole needed.

  Was it possible he’d never fallen in love or gotten married because he was meant to love her?

  He had something to give her that no one else could.

  His complete devotion.

  Aunt Gretchen was right. Nicole needed time to grieve and work through her loss. But Judd had another quality many others lacked.

  Patience.

  He’d wait for her as long as it took.

  He was meant for Nicole, and she was meant for him. He wasn’t going to settle for anything less, even if it took twenty years for her to come around.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Nicole wrapped a fuzzy scarf around her neck at dawn. She’d fallen into a deep sleep for two hours, gotten up, showered and put on a soft sweater with her favorite leggings. The sun had just risen, and large snowflakes fell outside. It was still too early for the babies to wake up. She needed to make peace with her past before they did.

  With the baby monitor in her pocket and warm boots on her feet, she slipped out to the front porch.

  Beautiful. Snow spread like frosting on the branches of the evergreen trees. The lane leading to Judd’s house could have been made of whipped cream. A cardinal flew between the trees. A perfect Christmas morning. The silent atmosphere gave her the strength she needed.

  “Aaron, I know you can’t hear me, but I want you to know I’m okay,” she said quietly to the air. “The babies are getting big, and they’re healthy. Eli looks just like you. He’ll be a handsome boy, like his daddy.” Her lips trembled. “I lost you last year. One year ago today. And I thought my life was over. I couldn’t imagine experiencing anything good again after you died.”

  She swallowed the huge lump in her throat.

  “It’s been hard.” Her voice cracked. “I’ve had to fight anxiety. It’s tried to sink me again and again. Even last night. It’s getting easier to fight it, though.”

  A breeze showered sparkly snowflakes on the porch rail.

  “I’ve met someone. A guy. A cowboy, really. He’s a good man. An honorable one. He loves your babies. You wouldn’t believe how tender he is with them. I know you don’t want to hear this. I know it would hurt you to find out I’ve moved on, so I want you to be the first to know. I am moving on. I want to. God gave me a second chance, and I’m taking it.”

  The guilt that had been weighing her down for so long flew away as easily as a butterfly in the spring.

  “Goodbye, Aaron. Till we meet again.” She closed her eyes and tilted her face upward. The release was bittersweet, but she knew it was right.

  She needed to make something else right, too. She had to apologize to Judd and thank him for taking care of her and the babies yesterday after she’d treated him so badly.

  Most of all, she had to tell him she was wrong.

  Their connection was real, it was deep and it was special.

  She’d do anything to protect it.

  Nicole was going to invite him over and lay out her heart to him. He might not want it. Yesterday might have killed any chances she had with him. But she had to try.

  If the town thought she was like her mom, oh, well. She finally understood the difference between them. Her mom latched on to any man. And only one would do for Nicole.

  * * *

  Maybe he should call her. Or text her.

  Judd stood on his porch with a shopping bag full of presents in one hand and a small wrapped box in his coat pocket. He’d put on a nice button-down shirt with dark jeans. His Stetson protected his hair from the snow, and while his cowboy boots weren’t as practical as his snow boots, they were a part of him, and he needed every ounce of confidence he could muster.

  He, Judd Wilson, was going to tell Nicole exactly how he felt.

  He wanted her to know what was on his mind. And if she still cut him out of her life? It would be the hardest thing he could imagine, but he’d get through it with the Lord’s help.

  Just one step, man. The first step is always the hardest.

  He moved forward, then marched down the porch. No UTV today. He needed time to figure out what to say. His stomach wasn’t great. It had tied itself into knots and seemed to be trying to work itself free.

  Gritting his teeth, he continued down her lane. Rays of sunshine streamed onto the snow, giving everything a shimmer it usually lacked.

  What if he got to the door and she wouldn’t let him in? What if someone else was there?

  He hadn’t thought this through. But the bend in the lane brought her cabin into view, and he had to admit, it did look dropped out of a fairy tale. The roof dripped with snow, and smoke wreathed out of the chimney.

  And there, on the porch, stood Nicole. She had a big scarf wrapped around her neck, and her eyes were closed. He took long strides, his heart racing, the grip on the bag tightening as he made his way up the steps to join her on the porch.

  “Oh, Judd, I can’t believe you’re here.” She made it sound like it was a good thing. “I’m so sorry for yesterday. When I think about how awful I was—” she shook her head, averting her eyes “—it almost makes me sick.”

  He wished she would clarify. Was she sorry for the whole rent thing or for crying? He set the bag down and moved to stand in front of her.

  “I’m sorry I insulted you by giving you rent. I’d like to tell you my intentions were good, but they weren’t. I was scared.”

  “You don’t have to be scared of me.” His voice was low and scratchy.

  “Not of you. Of this.” She pointed to him and back to herself. “I felt so guilty that I was growing close to you when Aaron hasn’t even been gone a year. I didn’t want to be like my mother. Her advice to me usually involves snagging a man.”

  His lips twitched upward at the last part.

  Her eyelashes lowered. “But the thing I feared the most was needing you.”

  “You need me?” His throat was as parched as the prairie in August. Bone-dry.

  She nodded, lifting those sage-green eyes to his. “I didn’t want to need anyone. I’d spent most of my life needing Aaron. I wanted to be independent. Wanted to make it on my own.”

  “You are independent.”

 
“Judd, I have three infants. I’m living here for free. The ladies from church help me five days a week. I am as far from independent as I’ve ever been.”

  “You’re not a charity case.” He clenched his hands to keep from reaching out and touching her. “Everyone likes you and wants to help out. Is that why you wanted to pay me rent? Do I make you feel dependent? Or incapable or something?”

  “No.” She took a step closer. He felt woozy all of a sudden. She smelled like sugar cookies. “You don’t. And that’s not why I tried to pay you rent. I was scared of my feelings.”

  He wanted to touch her. Put his arms around her. Reassure her.

  “You mean a lot to me,” she said. “Too much, really.” She turned to look at the trees, then faced him again. “You’re the reason I went to events when I first moved back. If I knew you’d be at a barbecue or social function, I didn’t have to worry about falling apart. Sitting by you calmed me. I didn’t have to talk. We could just sit there and be together.”

  He’d never realized his presence could comfort someone. He’d always felt like an awkward bump on a log.

  “And when Mom told me she was moving, the girls urged me to talk to you about renting this cabin. I hadn’t been that nervous in a long time.”

  “I wanted you to have it.”

  “I know. But even then I was aware I was attracted to you. I worried... Well, I worried about falling for you.”

  “You were attracted to me?” His chest swelled. He moved closer to her.

  “Yeah.”

  “I thought I was too old for you.”

  “Why would you think that?”

  He shrugged. Hope danced around his heart.

  “Anyway, I...” Her expression grew melancholy. “It was kind of you—so kind—to take care of me and the babies yesterday. Especially after...”

  The hope building inside him crashed to the ground. Was that it? She apologized and...nothing?

  Rejection dripped in. Maybe it was best to walk away and lick his wounds. It was what he would have done in the past.

  Not this time. Are you a cowboy or a coward?