Her Cowboy Till Christmas

by Jill Kemerer

  “How does she feel about those options?”

  “I don’t know.” Brittany rubbed her chin, wishing this was easier.

  “I’ll come by more often. I can throw out her leftovers from now on. It probably wouldn’t hurt to hire someone to come over and help her shower. Mason checks on her daily. I stop by once a week. Gretchen stops by, too.”

  Lois had a point. People watched out for Nan. Maybe living here by herself wasn’t the nightmare waiting to happen Brittany had been imagining.

  “I guess I could get her an emergency button in case she fell. I’m not sure what to do about her bills, though.”

  “Isn’t she paying them?”

  “She is. For now. But I worry it will get to a point where she’ll forget them.”

  “Why not get them all set up for auto-pay through her bank account?”

  She hadn’t thought of that. “That’s a great idea. I’ll run it by her. Maybe I could help her set it up before I leave. I hope she’ll let me. She did not like me asking about her having a power of attorney at all.”

  “My son is mine, but he lives in a neighboring town. If Ada was to name someone power of attorney, Mason would be a good option.”

  “Mason? Why?” Didn’t Lois think she was qualified for the task?

  “He lives here, honey. It will be awfully difficult for you to see to Nan’s affairs way down in California.”

  Another good point.

  “If you want to have a home health aide come in, you should talk to Vera Wick at church. She’s certified.”

  That was two recommendations for Vera—she sounded like the perfect solution.

  Lois continued. “And you might want to play up to your grandmother’s charitable side.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Make her think she’d be doing Vera the favor. Vera won’t mind.” Lois coughed. “Will you promise me one thing? Tell me you’ll talk to your grandma before making any decisions. This is her life. She’s doing pretty well for her age. Respect that.”

  “I will, Lois. Thank you.” After a few more minutes, she hung up. Lois was right. Nan deserved the respect of being asked what she wanted. It wasn’t Brittany’s call to completely overhaul her life. But she still didn’t know what the best option was, and until she had more clarity, she didn’t want to initiate the conversation.

  So far her visit had been full of contradictions, ups and downs, and surprises. She stretched out her back, then sat on the floor and began stretching each leg. The easing of the tight muscles relaxed her. Her ankles were sore. She frowned—must be from ice-skating.

  Skating with Mason and Noah had been fun at first. And then things had changed.

  When Mason opened up to her about how he proposed to Mia, she’d felt as if she were right there. The look on his face as he’d talked had made the hair on her arms rise. He’d looked so happy. In love. Young—like the Mason she’d grown up with.

  Then he’d mentioned tugging Mia onto his lap, and Brittany became aware of loss. His loss.

  And her own.

  Mason was the only man she’d ever loved. And another woman had gotten his love. All of it.

  The teasing, the butterflies, the dates, the proposal. The wedding, the mundane chores, the big ranch house and the ranch to go with it.

  The baby.

  The family.

  Mia had gotten it all, and she would never begrudge her that.

  But Brittany mourned for the things she didn’t have, the things she might never have.

  Tears welled in her eyes.

  Poor Mia. The woman had it all and lost it. It didn’t seem right her life had been cut short.

  Brittany had gotten a glimpse of what the loss had done to Mason.

  It had hollowed him out. And all she wanted to do was make him whole again.

  She sniffled and grabbed a tissue. For the first time in years, she wanted to remember her special times with Mason. In fact, she wanted to recall every moment she’d spent with him. She’d avoided thinking about him out of guilt and, in the process, lost out on the blessings of those summer days.

  Crossing over to the shelves where Nan kept old photo albums and books, she wiped her tears and selected a stack of albums. What better place to start than here?

  Chapter Ten

  “I feel like I’m looking at pictures of myself.” Ryder held up a photo from when Mason was in elementary school. “I think I had this same shirt.”

  Mason laughed. “You had good taste, man.”

  It was past ten on Saturday night. All three kids had conked out early. He and Ryder had been trading childhood stories ever since tucking them in. On his knees, Mason dug through the final box of old documents he’d gotten from the attic, and Ryder sat nearby with a pile of photos on his lap.

  “It’s funny how time changes you.” Ryder set the picture down. “In the summer, Granddad and I used to drive for what felt like a million miles to the middle of nowhere to check on the sheep herders and drop off supplies. I don’t know how they did it. Loneliest places you’d ever see. It’s funny, but I catch myself thinking about their trailers every so often. I wouldn’t mind spending a few weeks in one of them. Nobody breathing down my neck, no drama. Escape from it all, you know?”

  “I get it.” He slid a paper out from an envelope and scanned the contents. Nothing important. “My favorite part of the day is when I saddle up before the sun rises. It’s just me and Bolt, the ranch hands and a few herding dogs. No one needs to have a conversation. We all know what to do. It’s the closest thing to peace I’ve found since...” He and Ryder had been growing close, sharing their pasts, but neither had volunteered a word about their wives.

  Had he been wrong to confide in Brittany earlier? After he’d told her about proposing to Mia, he’d expected to berate himself, but he hadn’t. Because talking about the good times had left him feeling a tiny bit lighter. And he’d do anything to throw off the heaviness he’d carried since her death. Maybe he should open up more to his brother.

  “It’s been hard since Mia died.” There. He’d said it.

  “How did she die?”

  “Cancer. Six months after Noah was born.” He was getting emotional. Don’t cry. Taking a deep breath, he continued. “We found out while she was pregnant. Treatment would have hurt the baby, so she refused, and afterward, it was too late.”

  “I’m sorry.” Ryder got up and put his hand on his shoulder. And Mason felt it then—the connection to this man whom he resembled so closely. He rose and pulled him in for a hug.

  Ryder clutched him tightly, then clapped him on the back and sat down again.

  “You spent a lot of time with your grandfather, huh?” Mason swallowed twice in an effort to ease his emotions.

  “I did. He had high expectations and not much affection. I learned a lot from him, though. I’m grateful he raised me as a cowboy.”

  “Yeah, and you’re a big city boy now, aren’t you?” he teased, slowly feeling normal again. “Are you sure there’s any cowboy left? I can tell you wear fancy suits to work and hold meetings in conference rooms. You probably even have business lunches. My own brother...gone corporate.”

  “As a matter of fact, I do wear fancy suits and I might even let you borrow one sometime. I hate the meetings. They are the most pointless things on earth. Nothing gets done. Now business lunches on the other hand...yeah, I like them.”

  “Why?” Mason glanced up from the wad of envelopes he’d grabbed.

  “The food. My clients have expensive tastes, and I like a good meal.” He patted his stomach.

  “You have a point.”

  They sat in easy silence as Mason skimmed letters and Ryder studied the pictures.

  “I’ve been thinking about our visit to Dad’s friend yesterday.” Ryder glanced at him.

  “Oh yeah?”

&
nbsp; “All this time, and the guy knew our dad had gotten a degree and a job in finance—but I never knew it.”

  “Me neither.” He wasn’t sure where Ryder was going with this.

  “It makes me feel good I have a connection with him—that both of us were drawn to finance.”

  Something Mason didn’t have. He’d never been a fan of keeping the ranch’s books.

  “But I also wonder what we have in common with our mom. No one seems to know what she was like. My grandparents never talked about her. I don’t have ties to my hometown anymore. Who knew her? Someone had to have been close to Lisa Fanning.”

  “I do have a picture.” Mason got to his feet. One measly photograph, which was strange in itself. Ma and Pops had to have met her at some point.

  “I don’t have any,” Ryder said. “I remember seeing some when I was real little, but when I was in grade school, our basement flooded and destroyed the photos with it. I wish I would have snuck a few up to my room. I tried once. Granddad found them and yelled at me to leave the pictures alone. He took them with him.”

  Mason frowned. Granddad sounded harsh. But losing his daughter... Mason conceded grief made people act out of character sometimes. He of all people knew it firsthand. How many times had he been harsh with Bill or Joanna? Even Eden had gotten the brunt of his bad mood at times.

  “Can I see it?” Ryder asked.

  “Of course. I’ll go get it. Be right back.” He went to the staircase. Why wouldn’t Ma and Pops have accepted their son’s wife? If his dad had really wanted to ranch, a wife wouldn’t have stopped him. Pops blaming her didn’t make much sense. But maybe he hadn’t approved of her because she was manipulative. Or mean.

  He rummaged through his bedside drawer until he found the picture. Looking into his mother’s smiling face, he didn’t believe she was a bad person.

  He brought it downstairs and handed it to Ryder.

  “They’re together.” Ryder’s voice held a touch of awe. “They look happy, don’t they?”

  “Yeah, they do.”

  He stared over Ryder’s shoulder to study the picture. John had his arms around Lisa, and she leaned with her back to his chest. She was gazing sideways up at him. Her blond hair was permed, and her face had delicate features.

  “We look like our dad.” Ryder tapped John’s image. “But I think we have her eyes.”

  Mason squinted. “I think you’re right.”

  “Well, they were in love, at least.” Ryder sounded discouraged. “And we have proof our parents existed.”

  “We’ll keep looking for answers. Maybe we could track down friends of theirs from college. We could take a road trip to Colorado sometime.”

  He looked pensive. “Maybe we’ll never know much about them or why our grandparents separated us.”

  “I don’t know if I can accept that.”

  “When I think of Lily and I—” he shook his head “—I don’t know. We were happy at first. And then it fell apart. Our friends were the collateral damage of our fractured marriage. They chose sides. I suppose they had to. What if we find old friends of theirs and they only remember the bad?”

  “It’s a chance I’m willing to take. They might remember an imperfect couple who wanted to be together and tried. Besides, they might have been deliriously in love.” He didn’t know much about Ryder’s divorce, but this afternoon’s phone call at the skating rink had not boded well.

  “What if only one of them tried? But the friends saw things differently?” Ryder handed the photo back to Mason, and he set it on the coffee table. “What if one went into the relationship knowing full well she was not committed to making the marriage work? And the other one found out too late?”

  “Our parents didn’t get divorced. They died in a car crash.”

  “You’re right.” He sighed, raking his fingers through his hair. “I’m just torn up. I don’t even recognize my own life anymore.”

  “I barely recognize mine, either.” Mason took a seat on the couch. “So your ex—Lily, right?”

  Ryder nodded.

  “You must have loved her a lot.”

  “I did.” He slumped in the chair.

  “What happened?”

  “She fooled me. Used me.” He turned his attention to the Christmas tree in the corner.

  Mason followed his stare. The white twinkle lights and red and green bulbs were new. He’d left the old ornaments of his and Mia’s in the basement. Hadn’t had the guts to bring them up.

  “When we got engaged, she was wrapping up the final season of Courtroom Crimes. She said she was tired of the long hours and needed a break from acting. After the wedding, she wanted children right away. She wanted to be a stay-at-home mom, claimed she had no desire to constantly be on location or work fourteen-hour days. She seemed so loving, so caring. I was ecstatic. I couldn’t wait to have kids. A year later, the twins arrived. Within days, she hired a nanny to help out. Again, I understood. Twins, right? But it wasn’t until later I found out she was auditioning during the day.”

  “Was that the deal breaker?” Mason asked.

  “No. I admired her talent and always encouraged her to do what she wanted.” Ryder hung his head. “I don’t know why she kept it all a secret. She got a movie deal when the twins were nine months old. She missed their first birthday. The next year she was barely home, and when she was it was to get ready for this or that event. I didn’t love it, but I told myself acting fulfilled her. The twins’ third birthday was when everything fell apart. We had a party planned for them, but that morning she announced she’d fallen in love with a producer. A moving company arrived the next day. She moved in with the guy. She couldn’t even wait to tell me until after the girls’ party.”

  “Oh, man.” Mason rubbed his chin. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”

  “Thanks.” Ryder closed his eyes and tilted his head back. “I don’t know why I can’t get over it. I’m so angry, but it doesn’t change anything.”

  “I know anger. But I’m bitter for the opposite reason. I married the perfect girl.” He lifted one shoulder in a pointless shrug. “We were happy. In love. Had a baby. She died of cancer. End of story.”

  “I guess we both loved and lost.”

  “I reckon you’re right.”

  Neither spoke. Mason’s thoughts rearranged themselves again and again. Two weeks ago, he never would have imagined a day like today. He’d gone to Christmas Fest with his brother and nieces. He’d revealed tightly held, cherished memories to his ex-girlfriend. He’d bonded with his twin. And instead of regret or confusion, he’d gained a strong sense of clarity.

  His phone dinged. He checked it—Brittany had sent him a text. His pulse took off.

  I found some pictures you might be interested in.

  He texted her back.

  What kind of pictures?

  One might be of your parents.

  “Ryder, Brittany might have found pictures of our parents.”

  He leaned forward with excitement. “Tell her to bring them over.”

  “Now?”

  “Yes, now.”

  After a split second of hesitation, he nodded and texted her.

  Are you doing anything now? Want to bring them over?

  A few seconds passed. Be there in five.

  “She’s on her way.”

  * * *

  “Here, take these.” Brittany handed Mason the albums and took off her coat.

  “Hey, Brittany.” Ryder grinned behind him. It was funny, but although they were identical, she could easily tell them apart. Their personalities gave them away. Ryder had a more relaxed air to him, and Mason seemed quieter, more intense.

  The strange thing? She felt nothing but friendly affection for Ryder. Mason, on the other hand...just looking at him sent a troupe of ballet dancers twirling in her stomach. />
  They went into the living room and Mason sat on the couch. Brittany sat next to him, and Ryder looked over his shoulder. “What did you find?”

  “Nothing. I haven’t opened anything yet.” Mason rolled his eyes, then met hers. Awareness of him sent tingles over her skin.

  “This one can wait.” She took the top album and set it on the coffee table. She pointed to the one on his lap. “I found the pictures and clippings in this one.”

  “Clippings?” He flashed her a questioning glance as he opened it. She refrained from leaning in. She was already too close for comfort as it was. His strong hands, chapped from the cold, mesmerized her.

  “How old is this?” Mason got through the first pages quickly.

  “I’m not sure. I’m guessing the mid-1980s.” She tore her gaze away from his hands. A young guy who looked strikingly similar to Mason and Ryder wore loose-fitting jeans, a short-sleeved shirt, cowboy boots and a cowboy hat. He stood next to a pretty woman with blond hair pulled into a French braid and puffy bangs. She wore a denim miniskirt, a mint-green T-shirt with the sleeves rolled up, matching mint-green socks and white tennis shoes. They stood on Nan’s front porch.

  “That’s our mom.” Ryder’s voice rose in excitement. “It’s the same girl as in your picture.”

  “What were they doing at Nan’s?” Mason’s forehead furrowed.

  Brittany tried to recall the conversation Mason had had with Nan last week. “Didn’t she mention them coming home once?”

  “Why wouldn’t she have told me they’d stopped by to see her?” His voice rose. “She obviously met them if she took their picture.”

  “Don’t take it personally, Mason. She doesn’t remember every little thing.”

  “It’s not a little thing.”

  “To you, it isn’t. But it wouldn’t have been a major event for her.”

  “I don’t know.” He turned to stare at her. “I can’t help thinking maybe you’ve been right all along, and she’s declining quicker than I’d thought.”