Rodeo Rancher

by Mary Sullivan

Michael nodded. Mick and Colt wanted to go, too. Michael nodded again.

  “Make the list,” he said. “What about you?” he asked Lily. “You coming?”

  She shook her head. “Want to stay with Sammy.”

  Samantha reached for her and Lily fell limply into her arms.

  Using a riding snowblower, Michael cleared the driveway then backed his pickup truck out of the garage.

  The subdued group left ten minutes later after collecting Colt’s booster seat from Samantha’s car and transferring it to Michael’s pickup truck.

  Chapter Nine

  Bereft without the boys and Michael, Samantha put on her happy hat, as she’d had to do so many times in the past when Kevin had left her and the boys behind.

  “Let’s bake a cake! Would you like that?”

  Lily nodded. “With apples, Sammy?”

  “Yes, and cinnamon.”

  “I like cimmamim.”

  Over the next half hour, they put together a fragrant cake batter. Sammy could have done it in half the time on her own, but it was too much fun working with Lily to set her aside and take over completely.

  They had a snack and cleaned up, Lily poking in her little head wherever it was in the way the most. Sammy loved it.

  Oh, she was going to miss her.

  Don’t think about that.

  “What would you like to do now?”

  Lily looked tired, but their time together was nearly at an end, so Samantha didn’t even bother to suggest a nap.

  “Want to read picture books,” Lily said.

  “Okay. Where are they?”

  “In my bedroom.”

  In her room, Lily pointed to a couple of large photo albums on a shelf. Sammy took them down.

  “You mean real pictures.”

  “Mommy’s picture books.” Swinging Puff up from the bed by her hair, the girl slapped her doll against her chest and held on tightly.

  The more tired Lily was, the more attached she became to her doll.

  Walking back to the living room, Sammy wondered what she would find in the albums.

  They sat close together on the sofa and Samantha opened the top book. There in the first plastic sleeve was a glossy eight-by-ten of Michael on his wedding day, wearing a black suit, white shirt and black tie with a silver buckle inset with turquoise stones.

  She might not be familiar with Western culture and rural Montana, but she’d seen enough cowboys in the hotels in Vegas to recognize what they wore. The tie was a bolo. She liked the design of it.

  Black cowboy boots completed the look.

  Samantha recognized the front of Michael’s ranch house. Long rays of morning sunlight shone full blast on him. A breeze threw a lock of thick brown hair over his forehead, creating a grown-up version of Mick.

  A wide smile lit his face.

  It was a wedding photo, but it looked more like a snapshot.

  His smile, a luminous smile she’d never seen before, was directed at the photographer.

  What Samantha saw in his gaze took her breath away.

  Michael might not be happy now, might in fact be the grumpiest man she’d met in ages, and he might not know how to express his feelings, but he knew how to love.

  That much was obvious in the way he looked at the photographer behind the camera.

  His dark eyes glowed with love and pride.

  “Daddy,” Lily whispered.

  “Yes.” She guessed him to be about twenty or so.

  “He’s handsome,” Sammy murmured.

  She turned the page. A young woman stood in the same spot Michael had in the previous photo. In her eyes was a love that matched Michael’s. So, he was the photographer this time.

  Samantha smiled. The woman wasn’t quite centered in the shot and the top of her hair was almost cut off. Michael wasn’t as skilled behind the camera as his wife.

  Yes, Samantha had no doubt this was Michael’s wife. Her long, simple dress of ivory lace flowed over a petite figure to touch her off-white patent leather shoes.

  A circlet of small purplish-pink flowers sat on her honey hair, which fell long and natural over her shoulders.

  She looked even younger than Michael.

  “Mommy,” Lily said.

  “What was her name?”

  Lily stared at Samantha for a moment and then frowned. “Mommy,” she repeated.

  Lily probably had no idea what her mother’s given name was.

  “She’s in heaven. She’s a angel now.”

  Sammy wrapped her arm around Lily. “A beautiful angel.”

  Lily nodded.

  Although an ordinary woman with plain features, her face glowed. The love that streamed from her toward Michael made her beautiful.

  The next photo was of the two of them together on the steps of a small church, surrounded by people she guessed were friends and family. Cowboy hats and bolo ties abounded.

  These were more formal shots taken by a professional, but the nicest by far were the sweet early-morning photos they had taken of each other.

  “Wanna see something pretty?” Lily asked.

  “Yes. Is it another photograph?”

  “No. Come.”

  Samantha followed the child to her bedroom, where Lily opened the small drawer of her bedside table and pulled out a Christmas tree ornament, of all things.

  A tiny Santa Claus held a baby. On the baby’s blanket was inscribed the name Lily and Love from Mama.

  “Oh, Lily,” Samantha breathed. “It’s beautiful.”

  Lily nodded. “Pretty.”

  “Does this go on your Christmas tree every year to remind you of your mother?”

  Lily shook her head.

  “You keep it in your room? You don’t hang it on your tree?”

  “Don’t have a tree.”

  “What do you mean? You don’t have a Christmas tree?”

  Lily shook her head again.

  “It isn’t one of your traditions?”

  “What does tradshun mean?”

  “It means...” Samantha struggled to explain. “It’s what you do every year at Christmastime. The same things every year. If you don’t have a tree, what do you do for Christmas?”

  Lily looked at her solemnly. “We don’t do nothing, Sammy.”

  Stunned by Lily’s statement, Samantha couldn’t even correct the child’s grammar. “Nothing?”

  “No. Daddy says it doesn’t matter. All days are the same.”

  Samantha staggered out through the doorway, down the hall and to the living room where she grabbed one of the photo albums. Flipping through the pages, she didn’t stop until she found what she was looking for. Photographs of Christmas.

  There. In one of them was a tree, covered in ornaments. Samantha peered closely and spotted Lily’s little Santa with the baby.

  In another photo, Lily’s mother stood in front of the tree holding a tiny baby in a pink blanket. In another, she looked younger and held a baby wrapped in a blue blanket. Mick.

  So Christmas used to be celebrated in this house.

  Lily had joined her and stood quietly watching.

  “Lily?” Samantha asked.

  “Yes, Sammy?”

  “Do you remember if you had Christmas last year?”

  “I don’t memember, Sammy. I was just little.”

  “Yes, true. You would have been so tiny then.” Samantha patted Lily’s head. “Not like the big girl you are now.”

  Idly, thinking, she ran her fingers through Lily’s thick dark hair. “Would you like to have Christmas?”

  Lily nodded so hard her barrette went flying.

  Samantha picked it up and secured a lock off Lily’s forehead. “Would you like to have a Christmas tree?”

  “Yes!” she yelled almost as loud
ly as her brother would have.

  Michael wouldn’t like it. He’d already been angry with the meddling she’d done since she got here. But cripes. This was Christmas. This was important.

  What had been happening in this house, with Michael either canceling or ignoring Christmas, had been a tragedy. An absolute tragedy.

  Why on earth could the man not make the effort to have Christmas for his children?

  Grief. Paralyzing grief.

  She turned to the photograph of Michael on his wedding day. Kevin had never, not once in their marriage, looked at her with that depth of feeling.

  Having known love that special, how must it feel to lose it?

  Devastating. Poor Michael. She felt for him.

  But Christmas! Children deserved to have Christmas.

  Images flared, ebbed and flowed, memories of childhood and the absence of celebration in her home. Samantha was smart enough to know she was thinking about more than just Mick and Lily. She was thinking about herself and Travis, and all that they’d missed out on.

  In her childhood, the problem had been parental indifference. Her parents just hadn’t cared enough to make the effort.

  Michael was different. He loved Lily and Mick. Was he doing a lot for them? Yes. Was it enough? Maybe not.

  She shouldn’t butt in, but she would anyway.

  The kids deserved the Christmas they’d missed.

  Decision made, Sammy nodded. This family was getting a Christmas. She wouldn’t tell Lily yet, though. Michael was going to fight her tooth and nail on this.

  Samantha relished the challenge.

  * * *

  MICHAEL HAD A boy hanging from each arm while Jason walked ahead.

  They’d already filled the bed of the truck with groceries and were heading to the diner for lunch.

  They all put on a good show of being happy, but who was Michael kidding?

  He hadn’t wanted them in his house. Now he didn’t want them to go. Keeping them was unrealistic.

  What was wrong with him?

  That near-kiss with Samantha today had been a moment of lust. Not true. Honesty, as always, compelled him to dig deeper. It was more than lust. He liked her. He cared for her already, but how was that possible? It had merely been a second of loneliness gone out of control.

  She’d lain soft beneath him in so many layers of clothing he could barely determine her contours. But he imagined sinking into her softness and forgetting pain, grief and responsibility. He’d imagined just being. Just being with a woman. Just being with Sammy.

  That wasn’t going to happen.

  This town, these people...this was his real life, not a woman from Vegas, of all places.

  Samantha was more than a woman from Vegas. As uncomfortable as her confession to him had been last night, he also admired that she’d reached out.

  He just wished he didn’t feel so confused. She and her boys had invaded his house. They would be gone tomorrow. Again, he would have the peace, quiet and order that he craved.

  Oh, joy, Moreno. There’s been enough order and quiet to last a lifetime. She brought you fun.

  Shut up. I need peace.

  The house is going to reek of peace. Enjoy your quiet house without these great kids and that amazing woman.

  Sometimes he hated his conscience.

  Jason kept his head high, but Michael knew the kid was hurting. He hoped like hell that Travis had animals. The boy deserved to be around them. He was a natural.

  What a great kid.

  Maybe too great. Kids weren’t meant to be perfect. When did Jason cut loose? Did he ever get into trouble? Did he ever put a foot wrong?

  Kids should have the right to make mistakes and get into mischief.

  Michael’s parents had been tolerant, but also strict, so he knew there could be a balance. There had been in the early years at least, before his mom and sister had left.

  Michael adored his daughter, but he still managed to raise her with reasonable restrictions and expectations.

  Couldn’t the same be done with Jason?

  The kid didn’t have to be perfect.

  Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t notice at first when Jason burst ahead of them down the sidewalk, running full-tilt.

  Colt chased after him.

  What the—?

  Jason, tall for his age and gangly, threw himself into a man’s arms and wrapped his legs around his waist.

  The man, tall and broad-shouldered beneath his shearling coat, staggered a bit under Jason’s weight, but managed to stay upright. The guy even laughed and hugged the boy hard.

  Travis Read. Their uncle. Had to be.

  Travis put Jason down and lifted Colt high, making the kid giggle. He tossed him and caught him.

  Michael watched as Mick patted the man’s leg. Not one to approach strangers easily, he probably thought if the man was okay with Jason and Colt, he would treat him well, too.

  Travis looked down, put Colt on the ground and picked up Mick by his biceps, holding him at arm’s length and smiling.

  “Who do we have here?” he said with a slight smile.

  “I’m Mick!” he shouted.

  “He’s our new friend,” Colt said. “It sounds like he forgot to put in his hearing aids again.”

  Travis peeked in both of his ears. “Nope. No hearing aids. Any friend of Colt’s is a friend of mine.”

  “Throw me, too!”

  Travis looked past Mick to Michael with raised eyebrows that asked permission.

  Michael nodded.

  The man threw Mick into the air and caught him easily on the way down.

  His son’s giggles warmed Michael’s heart.

  Jason and Colt crowded Travis for his attention.

  Michael took Mick from Travis and set him on his feet, saying, “Give the boys time with their uncle.”

  Mick watched the byplay between the boys and the man with a fascinated intensity. “What’s an uncle?”

  While the boys chatted with Travis, with Jason more animated than he’d been in Michael’s house, Michael explained to Mick what an uncle was.

  Since Michael’s sister had left many years before Mick and Lily had been born, they didn’t have an aunt. Maybe they had cousins, but Michael didn’t know.

  That was a whole story his kids would never hear, not if he had any say in the matter.

  When the boys had settled, Travis reached out a hand. “You must be Michael Moreno. I’m Travis Read.”

  They shook. Travis had a good, hard handshake, hitting the right balance of managing confidence without aggression.

  He reached out that same hand to Michael’s son. “I’m Travis. Pleased to meet you.”

  Mick straightened and took the proffered hand.

  Michael liked the man immediately for treating a boy as an equal.

  “I’m real sorry my sister and the boys intruded on you.”

  It had been an intrusion. The woman had shaken up his world, had shattered his peace. He’d resented it. He’d resented her, but he couldn’t tell Travis that.

  Hell, to be fair, Samantha had done so much for them. “No problem. I had plenty of food. The boys are good kids. Quiet.”

  Travis grinned. “Not like Samantha. My sister’s got a set of lungs that don’t quit.”

  Michael grinned reluctantly.

  Travis stared down at his nephews. The wistfulness on his face tugged at Michael and he realized this was the first the man had seen them in what? Months?

  “We’re taking advantage of the plowed roads to get more supplies.”

  Travis nodded. “Me, too.”

  Michael glanced around. The town wasn’t too crowded yet. There was an empty table in the window of the diner.

  He pointed to it. “You want to stop with us for a snack?”


  “Yeah.” Travis led the way inside and hung up his cowboy hat on the hooks that lined the wall beside the door.

  “My favorite thing about this town when I first arrived,” he said, “was these hat hooks in every establishment.”

  Michael hung up his hat beside Travis’s. Only a few of the hooks were in use. Other times, on busy days, you’d be hard-pressed to find an empty one.

  “It’s a great system,” Michael said. “Hats don’t get lost. They don’t get crushed. They don’t fall on the floor and get trodden on.”

  “Most surprising thing is that nobody steals anyone else’s.”

  “Nope. That’s a crime that isn’t tolerated around here.”

  They managed to snag the window table, Jason and Colt on one side with Travis, and Mick on the other with Michael.

  Violet Summer, the owner of the Summertime Diner, approached in her waitress’s apron.

  “Hey, where’d all these kids come from? I know Mick, but who are those big strapping boys beside you, Travis?”

  “My nephews. This here’s Jason, and that troublemaker in the corner is Colt.”

  Colt shrugged with a grin that matched his uncle’s.

  Michael smiled, because Samantha had said almost the same thing when they’d first arrived.

  Colt seemed to like the attention.

  “So,” Vy said, setting one fist on a nicely rounded hip. She had a fine figure. Michael liked a woman with meat on her bones. “You finally arrived.”

  To Travis, she said, “Where’s your sister? I’d love to meet her.”

  “They drove in through the snowstorm and got stuck. Fortunately, they were close enough to Michael’s ranch to stop there.”

  Travis sobered. “Some of those roads are isolated. I’m glad your place was nearby. I don’t know what would have happened to them if they’d been trapped in the car.”

  He didn’t say out loud in front of the children what both he and Michael thought. The road-clearing crews could have made the sad discovery of a frozen woman and her two little ones.

  Vy turned her attention to Michael. “They stayed at your place?”

  He nodded. Inwardly, he smiled. Vy was the curious sort. She wasn’t malicious, but he wasn’t going to give her fuel for gossip.

  “When did they get there?” she asked.

  “Afternoon of the storm.”