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Her Cowboy Till Christmas

Page 8

by Jill Kemerer


  “Still no word on Phoebe’s dad?” Mason broached the topic gingerly. Gabby’s sister had a one-night stand down in Texas, which had resulted in Phoebe. Allison had tracked down his address and sent multiple letters, but never heard from the guy. After Allison’s death, Gabby had continued to try to contact him.

  “No, and Lord forgive me, but I hope it stays that way. I couldn’t bear the thought of him coming in here and taking the baby from me.”

  He didn’t like the idea of a child growing up without a father, but he couldn’t fault Gabby. She’d done everything in her power to alert the baby’s daddy.

  “What about you, Eden?” Mason gave her his most tender smile. In many ways, she was the mommy Noah no longer had. “How are you holding up?”

  “Okay. The holidays are hard.” Her face fell.

  “I hope you know how much I appreciate all you do for Noah. Every day he comes home brimming with news about all the fun stuff he did with Auntie Eden.”

  “He’s my sunshine, Mason.” Her smile brightened her eyes. “I love him. I’m thankful to be part of his life.”

  “You’ll always be part of his life.”

  She raised her eyebrows slightly, then looked away. Strange. What did that mean?

  “Let’s get back into our study of Psalm 37.” Gabby opened her Bible.

  Mason opened his Bible and said a silent prayer. Lord, thank You for this group. I would have sunk long ago if it wasn’t for these two women.

  As he trailed his finger down the page, he couldn’t get Eden’s words out of his mind. You weren’t by yourself. Brittany was there.

  Eden didn’t get it. He’d needed Mia there, not Brittany. Although now that she’d shown up, he didn’t hate her anymore. And that was dangerous.

  He’d lost her once.

  He’d lost his wife for good.

  His heart couldn’t take loving and losing again.

  Chapter Six

  Late Wednesday morning, after doing a bit of Christmas shopping, Brittany sat with Nan at a cozy table for two near the fireplace in Cattle Drive Coffee. Being in Rendezvous had piqued her curiosity about things she’d refused to dwell on in the past. Like her mother. Last night she’d asked Nan about her mom, and she’d shared detailed stories of “her Joanie” growing up.

  Why had Nan and Mom grown apart? As far as Brittany knew, they spoke only a couple of times a year for birthdays and Christmas, and they were brief phone calls. Basically, it seemed like the same strained relationship she had with her mom. She’d never lived up to her mother’s expectations, so no big surprise there. But Nan? The sweetest woman on the planet? Why would Mom shun her, too?

  “I’m glad you and Mason have been spending time together, dear.” Nan stirred her coffee.

  “Me, too.” And, shockingly, she was. When she’d arrived in town with Ryder, she’d fully expected to get a blistering lecture from Mason followed by stone-cold silence. Instead, she’d gotten a slow thaw of their former friendship. Not that it could be anything more—but to be on speaking terms with him again meant a lot to her. “I’m going with him this afternoon to pick out a Christmas tree. I’m getting one for us, too.”

  “That will be lovely.” Nan took a tentative sip and set the cup back on the table. “Oh, that’s hot. He’s been different since his wife died.”

  “I imagine it was very painful to watch his wife suffer.”

  “He was happy when he was with her. I’d see them horseback riding together at the edge of the property sometimes. And she would stop in with freshly baked muffins now and then. I liked Mia. Very much.”

  A flash of jealousy tightened her chest. A part of her itched to change the subject, but another part wanted to learn everything she could about his wife.

  “What was she like?” Brittany raised her mug and blew on the surface before attempting a sip. Mmm...delicious.

  “Mia?” Nan looked off to the side with a smile. “She was tall. On the quiet side. Kind. Very kind. Everyone liked her. I don’t think I ever heard anyone say a bad word about her.”

  She shrank in her seat. Tall, quiet, kind? The exact opposite of herself.

  “Did she have a job before she had Noah?”

  Nan shook her head. “No, she helped Mason with the ranch. She kept the ranch’s books. She loved to cook and bake. Mason had a fine wife in her. My heart broke for him when she got the diagnosis.”

  “What kind of cancer did she have?”

  “I... I don’t recall. But it took her quick.”

  Horrible. Mia sounded like the perfect wife for Mason. A real partner. Something Brittany would never be. Teaching kids and teens how to dance brought her joy. Staying in a farmhouse all day, baking, keeping ranch records and occasionally riding horses with a husband didn’t appeal to her.

  Except...thinking of Mason’s broad shoulders, light brown eyes, his laugh, the comfort of being with him...well, if he was the rancher, it appealed more than she wanted to admit.

  But she couldn’t imagine a life without dance.

  If she could scoop up Mason and Noah and set them in Santa Ana...

  Really, Brit? Like that would ever happen. He’d hate California. Wyoming was where he belonged. And she’d be wise to think about something else.

  “Nan, why do you think Mom is so distant?” She watched her intently. She didn’t seem flustered, but a frown deepened the lines in her face.

  “I reckon life didn’t turn out the way she wanted.” Nan met her gaze and Brittany acknowledged the truth of the statement. “As a little girl, Joanie was always seeing the bright side of things, but she’d see them as too bright. Overly optimistic to the point where she couldn’t help but be disappointed.”

  It was her turn to frown. That didn’t sound like Mom at all. Her mother was a pragmatic realist. She always had something negative to say about Brittany’s life and plans. That’s why Brittany had stopped sharing them with her.

  “Howdy, Ada.” An elderly couple approached. “Is this your granddaughter?”

  Nan’s expression glazed over. Brittany’s stomach clenched. Her grandmother didn’t seem to recognize these two. Not wanting her to be embarrassed, she held out her hand. “I’m Brittany Green, her granddaughter. I used to spend my summers in Rendezvous.”

  “Oh, that’s right,” the white-haired lady said. “My, you’ve grown up. Do you remember Brittany, Dan?”

  The wiry man wore typical ranch gear—a Stetson, work jacket, jeans and cowboy boots. “You ran around with Mason Fanning, didn’t you? I used to see you kids together in town. You always looked like you were having fun.”

  “Did you hear he has a twin?” The woman leaned over and widened her eyes. “Identical.”

  “I did hear that, actually.”

  “Where are my manners? I’m Ginger Bates, and this is my husband, Dan. We live on the other side of Rendezvous. Dan worked with your grandfather.”

  Brittany glanced at Nan, who seemed herself once more.

  “We won’t keep you. Just wanted to say howdy.” Ginger waved to them both and took Dan by the arm before leaving.

  “He used to work with Grandpa?”

  “Who?” Nan averted her gaze and drank her coffee.

  “Dan Bates. The man who just stopped by.”

  “Oh, yes. Neil hired him at the feed company. Dan was a good worker.”

  She sighed. One step forward, two steps back. She hoped the doctor would give them some answers tomorrow. Because the way Nan went in and out of remembering things, Brittany didn’t have much peace of mind at the present.

  * * *

  “What do you mean we’re not going to a tree farm?” Brittany sounded shocked.

  “Tree farm? What gave you that idea?” Mason glanced at her sitting in the passenger side of his truck Wednesday afternoon. The tight quarters carried the scent of her light perfume. The way h
is nerves were jangling, he felt like he was eighteen again.

  Eighteen? Yeah, right. You’re a long way from eighteen. The rearview showed Noah strapped into the car seat in the back. His eyelids had grown droopy. No surprise there. He usually took a short nap around this time.

  “I thought everyone got real trees from a farm.”

  “Maybe in Hallmark movies but not around here.” The truck bumped along the path. “Why would I buy a tree when we can cut one down on my property?”

  “Wait.” She held her arm out. Her white jacket was probably warm, but the color wasn’t practical. Around these parts, everything got dirty. And he couldn’t help noticing the gray gloves she wore wouldn’t keep her fingers warm for long. “We’re cutting one down?”

  “Yeah. What did you think I meant?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I figured we’d pick out precut trees the way most people do where I live.”

  “Precut? You can’t be serious. Is that what you do?”

  “No.” Her pretty white teeth flashed in a grin. “I have an artificial.”

  “Artificial.” He shook his head, pretending disgust. “You don’t get the evergreen smell from an artificial tree.”

  “You also don’t get needles and sap and the hassle of getting rid of it in January.”

  “True. But it’s worth it.” His 4x4 handled the dirt path through the hills like a champ. “We’re fortunate there are only a few inches of snow, or we might have had trouble getting to the northeast section of my land.”

  “Is that where you’ve tucked your Christmas tree farm? Please tell me there will be a hot chocolate stand.”

  “No hot chocolate stand, but I brought a thermos and some cups.” He almost hadn’t brought the hot chocolate, but Noah had insisted and he wanted to make the outing fun for him.

  “My hero.” She made a production out of fluttering her eyelashes. Her face reminded him of a summer day. Happy, bright and full of joy.

  Heat crept up his cheeks. He was no one’s hero. Not anymore.

  “Tell me about the ranch,” Brittany said. “What’s it like owning the property you grew up on?”

  “It’s great.” He maneuvered around a tight curve and continued forward. Well, it used to be great. Back when Mia would get up with him while it was dark. She’d make coffee, and if it wasn’t too snowy, she’d ride out with him on the feed truck and help open gates. They’d never said much. They didn’t have to.

  “Did you change anything? Besides remodeling the house, that is.”

  “No.” He’d been ready to—had planned on expanding the herd. Then Mia had gotten pregnant, and they’d decided to wait until they could save more money. It was a good thing they had, or his current financial situation would be even worse. She’d found out she had cervical cancer at her first appointment with the obstetrician.

  How many times had he wondered if their decision to delay treatment until after Noah was born had been a fatal mistake?

  God, help me let the guilt go.

  Brittany faced the windshield, and he noted the way her hands moved in patterns ever so slightly on her legs. He’d forgotten that habit of hers.

  “What about you?” he asked. “Dancing professionally didn’t do it for you? Is that why you’re teaching dance?”

  “Yes and no.” Her chin tilted upward, not in defiance, but in honesty. “There are a million dancers with big dreams, and I realized after a few years of auditioning, the chances of me making it were slim to none. So I started teaching. I love it, but renting rehearsal space limits my options. I need my own studio.”

  “So get one.” The stand of evergreens appeared. He slowed the truck.

  “I’m trying.” The words were so quiet, he had to peek at her to make sure she’d said them.

  “What’s stopping you?” He cut the engine and pocketed the keys.

  “I take it we’re here.” She opened her door and climbed down. He wouldn’t press her. Didn’t really care if she had a studio or not. Made no difference in his life.

  He unbuckled Noah, who sprang awake as quickly as a jack-in-the-box. “Christmas tree?”

  “Yep.” He set Noah on the ground. Brittany had shoved her hands in her pockets and was shivering near the front of the truck. The pensive expression on her face pulled at his heart.

  Maybe he did care if she had a studio or not. Maybe it bothered him—just a little bit—that she wasn’t as happy as he’d always imagined.

  He hauled the metal bow saw along with a chain saw out of the back of the truck, then approached her. “The studio’s important, huh?”

  “It is.” She stared up at him, and he had to look away from those shimmering eyes. “With my own space, I could hire more dance teachers, attract more students and finally put together a competitive dance team. But properties are so expensive where I live.”

  “Can you take out a loan?” He started walking toward the row of tall pines. Noah scampered ahead.

  “I’m waiting to hear back from a bank who might be willing to give me a business line of credit. For what it’s worth, I’ve applied several times to various banks over the past couple of years with no success.”

  “This time will be different.”

  “What if it isn’t?”

  “You’ll find a way to make it happen. I know you. You’re...tenacious.” He checked to make sure Noah was nearby. The kid was running toward the trees. “Hey, slow down, buckaroo.”

  “I’m gonna find us the biggest one, Daddy!”

  “Rule number one. It needs to fit in our house.” He broke into a light jog. Brittany’s laugh filled the air. She’d tossed her head back and was gazing up at the sky. Her delight made him halt in his tracks.

  She was joyous and full of life. She took his breath away.

  His pulse raced out of control, and it annoyed him. Because he didn’t get all jittery around women. Not anymore.

  She lifted her leg, bent it and did some sort of spinning move. Right there in the snow under the blue sky.

  Who did that? Who danced in the snow?

  He lurched ahead, following the trail of boot prints Noah was making. His torso felt hot, and it wasn’t due to the physical activity. Brittany was tropical sun on his face after a cold winter. She was fireworks on the Fourth of July.

  She was pure excitement to him. Always had been.

  “It’s cold, but it’s perfect.” She caught up to him. “Listen. It’s so quiet. I didn’t know how peaceful it could be in the winter.”

  He shifted the chain saw to his other hand. “You’re used to Rendezvous in the summer.”

  “It’s not like I’ve never seen snow, but—” she looked up and around “—this is special. Is that a hawk?”

  “An eagle. The white head gives it away.”

  “Daddy! I see a pwonghorn.” Noah spun to face them, pointing to the left.

  “Good eye, buddy. That’s a deer.”

  “I found a deer, Miss Bwittany!”

  “Wow! I don’t think I’ve ever seen one so close.” The deer took off running, its white tail bobbing as it disappeared into the forest ahead of them.

  “Let’s go this way.” Mason directed Noah to the left where rows of spruce and fir trees stood.

  The boy slowed as he came to the first tree. “What about this one?”

  “It’s got a hole.” Mason strolled around it, pointing to a bare section. “We’ll keep looking.”

  “Ooh, this one’s big.” Noah stared up way above them at a blue spruce.

  “Aah...it’s a little too big.” Mason gestured for him to keep going.

  “But I like it, Daddy!”

  “I know, but it’s too tall. Remember the rule we made?”

  His face fell. “It has to fit in the house.”

  “Right.”

  “Hey, Mason?” Brittany h
ad stopped near a short, fluffy Fraser fir. “Do you think this would be okay for Nan?”

  Noah raced to her and imitated his daddy as he inspected it. “Nan needs a big one.”

  “This is pretty big.” Brittany framed her chin between her thumb and index finger. “I think it would look good in her front window. What do you think?”

  “I think she’d love it,” Mason said.

  “I think she’d love it, too.” Noah jumped up and down. “Can I help cut it?”

  “Not this time, buckaroo.” He set the chain saw on the ground and started trimming the lower branches from the tree trunk with the bow saw. “Okay, stand back.”

  He waited until Brittany had hauled Noah close to her, keeping her hands on his tiny shoulders, before starting the chain saw. The buzzing sound filled the air, and in no time flat, he’d cut down the tree. He switched the saw off. “What’s next?”

  “You did it!” Noah clapped his hands.

  After dragging it to the tree line near the truck, they resumed looking at the spruces. Brittany told him about taking Nan out for coffee this morning.

  “She didn’t seem to recognize Ginger and Dan Bates.” Her easy strides matched his as they followed Noah from tree to tree. “I don’t remember them, either. I guess Dan worked with my grandpa. I have to admit, I don’t recognize many people around here anymore.”

  “You’d recognize Babs O’Rourke,” he said dryly.

  “The redhead who knew everything?” She chuckled. “I’m surprised she’s still around.”

  “She owns the inn in town where my friend Gabby works. Still as nosy as ever.”

  “Maybe she would know something about your past.”

  He’d like to think so, but he knew better. “Nah, she would have said something by now.”

  “Too bad. Oh, look at this tree!” Brittany stopped near a stunner. “Someone around here must know something. Your dad would have had friends, classmates, right?”

  “I suppose.” His neck craned up. “Hey, Noah, what do you think?”

 

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