“I’m not here for a roll in your hay.”
He slid his hands in his pockets. “What can I do for you?”
Oh, God, how to begin?
“I wanted to talk to you — ” Vanessa stopped. She should have thought this through, come up with a plan. Drop it on him, like a bomb exploding? No, that was unfair. But he didn’t need a lesson in the birds and the bees.
She started over. “That night, I wasn’t myself. And I don’t know what your excuse is or was — ,” he opened his mouth to speak but Vanessa kept talking, “ — and I don’t want to know. That’s your business. Anyway, I didn’t expect it to happen. I didn’t expect anything to happen.” Dear Lord, she was making a mess of this. Had she made one clear statement since he came in the barn door? Vanessa wasn’t sure.
“So you didn’t expect or think anything would happen that night.” Laughter filled Mat’s voice. “And now you’re trying to apologize because what happened was unexpected and you don’t want a repeat. No worries.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “We agree.”
“Mat!” One of the stable hands walked in, keys dangling from his fingertips. “If we’re going to ride up to check the cattle on the north side, we need to leave now.” The kid put the keys on a hook and stopped dead when he saw her, as if wondering why Evil Vanessa was cornering his boss.
“I’ll be out in a second,” Mat said and waved the kid away. “I’m not sorry it happened, but that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t want it to happen again. So we’re even, Vanessa. You can go on with your life. Really, I’m fine.” He turned on his heel and left the barn.
“I’m pregnant,” she told the empty barn. “And I’m not sorry that night happened. Not even a little bit.”
Vanessa was shocked to realize the statement was completely true.
• • •
The scent of pine drew Vanessa down the stairs that evening. She listened to the chattering voices in the great room. Kathleen chided Jackson about his choice of tree. Too big seemed to be the consensus, especially from Mitchum who’d gone with him to pick it out. She couldn’t see the tree from her perch but an evergreen the size of the Rockefeller Center tree entered her mind. Would Jackson have gone that overboard?
When she’d come back over the summer months, Vanessa was distracted with her imploding life, but she’d paid enough attention to know Jackson grew up with less than nothing until his rancher father stepped into the picture. Since college, he’d traveled the world as one of the top fashion photographers in the world. Over Thanksgiving, when Kathleen mentioned the family Christmas she had hoped to have before their youngest sister, Monica, decided she wanted a Caribbean vacation, she said it would be Jackson’s first real holiday celebration. The holiday wasn’t the full reason for Vanessa to come home, but it was there in the back of her mind as soon as the doctor told her she was pregnant.
She’d never had a family Christmas before, either. Sure, she’d lived at the ranch, but she’d poo-pooed most of the family time. Once she married Paul, the holiday was spent on ski vacations with friends, extravagant gifts and very few memory-making moments. She closed her eyes and sat on the steps, listening. Flirtation was beneath the banter between Kathleen and Jackson. Affection between Kathleen and Mitchum. Nathaniel joined the group a few moments later and the dynamic never changed. Odd jokes, playful pokes at one another. She sighed. Not being able to actually see the tableau she listened to didn’t matter. The picture in her head was unmistakable: a family holiday.
And she was missing out. Vanessa stood. No time like the present to take back her life, she decided.
The scene in the great room was more intimidating than she imagined. Kathleen sat before the tree, boxes of ornaments spread before her. Each box held a single color of ornament, tinsel and ribbon. Monica’s mother’s doing, if Vanessa remember correctly. She had always been fearsome in her attention to detail. Jackson and Nathaniel moved the tree, which pushed against the ceiling slightly, to the left and then back again. Centered in front of the wide picture window that looked over Texas hills without a hint of snow on them, the tree was perfect. Not that she could see much of the hillside around the massive tree.
“I’m making an executive decision because if I don’t I’ll be the one left cleaning it up. No tinsel this year,” Kathleen declared from her seat on the floor. She pulled smaller boxes from each of the larger tubs and tossed them across the room. “And multi-colored lights. If we’re going conglomeration, let’s go all the way.” She grabbed a couple more boxes, this time of icy white lights, and tossed them toward the boxes of discarded tinsel. Then, she dug into a bag near her hip and brought out three boxes of multi-colored twinkle lights. Vanessa had a feeling they would need more. Kathleen looked up. “Van, help me out over here?”
She motioned Vanessa into the room.
“Another victim.” Jackson crowed from behind the tree. “You think conglomeration of all the ornaments is a good idea, don’t you?”
A tree filled with ornaments of every color, haphazardly scattered around the branches sounded perfect to Vanessa. But this wasn’t her family just yet. She looked from Mitchum to Nathaniel and Kathleen, but they were no help. Each schooled their features. Her decision, apparently.
“One tub of ornaments isn’t going to make a dent in that tree. It would be a shame to leave bare branches.”
Jackson winked at her. “A girl after my own heart. Conglomeration, it is.”
“Shouldn’t it be majority rule?”
“It is. Nathaniel and I wanted conglomeration, Kath and Mitch wanted color-coordinated. You were the tie-breaker.”
Vanessa tensed. She didn’t want to offend anyone so soon after coming back. Kathleen must have picked up on her unease because she spoke up.
“We were going to let them have their way sooner or later,” she said. “A mismatched tree is sounding better and better.”
Jackson and Nathaniel twisted the tree around, making sure the fullest side faced the room. Kathleen patted the space beside her. Vanessa sat and began looking through one of the tubs. Construction paper cut-outs of candy canes and a single loop of a colorful paper chain filled one box, all with either Kathleen’s or Monica’s name scribbled on the back in a small child’s handwriting.
“These?”
Kathleen shook her head. “Mismatched is good. But we’ve got more ornaments than I know what to do with. We’ll put the paper pieces back in the attic. Try that box over there.” She pointed to a bright pink tub and Vanessa pulled it over.
The tub was filled with picture ornaments. Kathleen and Monica as babies, young children and teenagers. No pictures of Vanessa until the year she was sent to Texas. Seeing so many pictures of her sisters was a knife to her heart. Had Nathaniel not bothered to save even her school pictures?
It shouldn’t matter. Vanessa told herself it was to be expected. She hadn’t lived here. Probably Gillian didn’t send school pictures. But a box filled with her sisters’ lives and with no sign of her was a knife to the heart. A reminder that she hadn’t belonged here.
“I — ,” she cleared her throat. No need to let them see how much this bothered her. “How many of these do you want?”
“I’d forgotten about these, we haven’t pulled them out in the last few years.” Kathleen pawed through the box looking at first one and then another ornament. She handed a couple to Jackson who smiled and handed them back. Vanessa’s throat tightened.
Maybe it was wrong to try to belong here now.
Kathleen opened a small box at the bottom of the bin. ‘Baby’s First Christmas’ was hand-painted on one in pink, along with a tiny newborn image and date. Her date. Vanessa’s breath caught. Her sister grinned. “I haven’t seen these in years.” She handed over the box. Twenty-five ornaments, most with holiday scenes painted along with a year. Nathaniel looked over her shoulder.
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��I saw that one in a store window in Austin. I didn’t know what you were into, but I figured every five year old wants to be a princess at some point.” The painted image of a girl with dark hair and a pointed pink hat with a pink scarf trailing behind grinned from the ball. Nothing like what she had looked like at age five but Vanessa didn’t care.
He’d thought of her. All the years without Christmas trees or decorating parties faded away. Nathaniel hadn’t been Father of the Year material back then, but he’d remembered her even when she was thousands of miles away.
He picked up the first ball, with her birth year emblazoned on one side. “I think there’s an ornament hanger in the box, if you want to keep this one.”
Vanessa shook her head. “Maybe after the holidays. But would it be okay if this one hung from the tree?” She refused to look at any of them, afraid they’d see how a tiny ornament affected her.
Kathleen rubbed her shoulder against Vanessa’s. “Let’s hang each of our birth-year ornaments, right at the top.” She took her ornament and Monica’s and waited beside Vanessa at the tree. They placed the ornaments in the center of the massive tree and stood back to admire their work.
“There’s a lot more tree to fill, girls,” Mitchum piped up from his recliner near the fireplace. “Chop, chop.”
“You heard the man. What’s next?” Kathleen motioned toward the boxes.
Vanessa turned to her sister. “We’re missing a first Christmas ornament. Yours and Jackson’s.”
Kathleen grinned. “Nothing a quick trip into town won’t fix.”
If only it was that easy for Vanessa.
• • •
Two days since Vanessa Witte arrived back at the ranch and she kept showing up where he least expected her. Making him react to her when all he wanted was for life to go back to pre-August normal.
Now, here she was sitting in the kitchen garden with Uncle Gui pulling weeds from around the stalks of broccoli and carrots. Containers of new daisies and impatiens waited in another basket at her hip. Mat couldn’t hear their words, but Guillermo laughed and pointed to another corner.
Why did he still want her? She was everything he shouldn’t want. Spoiled. Rich. Recently divorced, which put the spoiled and rich parts in desperate need of attention.
Beautiful. Dark hair fell over her shoulders, hiding her face from him, but he knew her lips were full and naturally pink, that the ice in her blue gaze melted with passion.
Mat reined his mount around before either noticed him at the corner of the barn. Vanessa would want to talk yet again. Gui would see through them both in about two seconds and then the old mother hen would insist they made a perfect match: the daughter of a wealthy rancher, the son of a Silicon Valley king. She didn’t need his money, he didn’t need hers, Gui would say. Mat knew better. The rich girls were worse than the poor, in some ways. Always wanting more, always looking for another reason to hit the gossip rags. He didn’t need that, not again.
• • •
Vanessa watched Mat go from the corner of her eye. Avoiding her. Not that she blamed him. She couldn’t tell him about the baby with Guillermo around, anyway. They needed privacy for that. Still, he didn’t need to run in the other direction when she was within fifty feet of him.
She pulled a few bits of clover from around the broccoli and rubbed rich, black earth from the gardening gloves she’d grabbed in the mudroom.
“You don’t have to help me with this, chica.” His gravelly voice was patient, his hands gentle as he showed her how to pull the full weed from the ground rather than only the top. Vanessa corrected her attempts and was rewarded with a full batch of clover — dirty roots and all — in her hand.
“I know. But I can’t start updating the website for the bull sale until after the first of the year. I might as well make myself useful.” Besides, weren’t mothers supposed to know things like planting flowers and weeding vegetable gardens? She might as well get used to the new chores. Not that they felt like chores. It was kind of fun digging around in the dirt. She grabbed another set of weeds and pulled. The older man nodded and moved from the vegetable garden to the freshly mulched area beneath an old oak tree.
“You finish the vegetables, then, and I’ll start on the flowers.”
Wind whipped a strand of hair into her face and Vanessa pushed it back behind her ear. A few minutes later, finished with the veggies, Vanessa turned to Gui, sitting under the oak. “So, daisies or impatiens first?”
“Daisies first, and closest to the tree,” Guillermo said, and began showing her how to plant so that the flowers blended into a wild garden in the shade of the oak.
A couple of hours later Vanessa stood, stretched, and put the last empty, plastic container into Guillermo’s wheelbarrow. He’d gone back to the kitchen a long time before, to start preparing lunch. Vanessa wiped a hand over her forehead, pushed her hands up over her head and twisted left, then right to loosen the muscles in her shoulders and back.
The flowers looked good, if she did say so herself. Only one daisy leaned weirdly left, the rest of the plants stood tall, as if inviting the sun to stay a while. A sense of satisfaction circled her heart. She couldn’t ever remember a task feeling so good upon completion.
Was this how Kathleen felt when a horse she’d trained won an event? Or how Mat felt after a long day doing whatever it was he did with the cattle? She could get used to it.
She left the wheelbarrow and gloves inside the shed Guillermo used for the garden tools and dumped the plastic containers into a trash bin before heading into the house. Now, if she could only get the same kind of satisfaction from the website update. Somehow she didn’t think rewriting a sales flyer would quite measure up.
Vanessa washed her hands at the sink in the mudroom and continued into the dining room where everyone waited, the ideas she’d hit on while working in Guillermo’s garden chasing through her head. She didn’t just want to plan the party for the sale or send a few faxes. She wanted to be part of the team.
Her degree was mostly unused, but that didn’t mean it had to stay that way. She took a deep breath and steeled her spine for the no’s she was certain were coming.
Jackson’s eyebrows went up when he saw her and Mitchum frowned into his tortilla soup. Nathaniel was missing in action, as he’d been since Vanessa arrived. She pretended not to notice and continued to her seat.
“Um, Van, you … ” Kathleen looked at every person around the table except Vanessa. “You should, ah … ”
“What? Eat in the kitchen with the rest of the hired help?”
“No, that isn’t — ”
“I know I’m a little grubbier than usual.”
“Vanessa, I think Kathleen meant — ”
She cut Mitchum off. “I’m messy. Deal with it.” Her skin prickled at the recrimination in their voices. They obviously didn’t want her here. It was happening a lot sooner than she’d bargained for.
“I say we deal with it. A little dirt never hurt anyone.” Jackson’s calm voice soothed Vanessa. She would have to thank her new brother-in-law later. “Let’s eat.”
Vanessa picked up her spoon to taste Guillermo’s soup. Mexican spices exploded on her tongue and were quickly soothed by creamy cheddar cheese. Heavenly. She crunched a tortilla and had another bite.
Kathleen looked at Jackson, who just grinned. She shrugged and Vanessa relaxed. “Okay, then. When do you need to start getting pictures of the bulls? And how quickly do you need the new copy for the flyers and other documentation?”
Good. Talking about business was always good. Vanessa wished again that she fit better with the rest of the family. That they didn’t walk on eggshells with each other. Maybe soon. Maybe, if she did well enough on the pre-sale work. Maybe.
“Next week would be great. And I was thinking, the ranch website could use an overhaul. I know I usu
ally print the flyers and plan the party, but I could do more.” She plunged ahead before she could chicken out. “I could change the layout of the sale site, add new information, pictures of the bulls and their vital stats. Not for all of them — with barely two months until the sale, the focus should be on the bulls with the best pedigrees. We should also let some of the buyers come in early, to create buzz. Your cattle have a reputation, Grandfather, but we could make it bigger. Most of the buyers have seen the operation, but seeing the cattle in person might spur some higher bids.”
“No.” Mat’s voice echoed around the room. He took the seat across from Kathleen, right next to Vanessa. His arm almost rubbed against hers and her stomach erupted in little somersaults. Vanessa put down her spoon and wiped her hands on her napkin.
He was telling her no? She didn’t think so.
“I won’t have buyers or anyone else traipsing around the bull pasture. Isn’t safe,” he continued.
“We’ll move the cattle they’re interested in into one of the round-pens. Guests outside the fence, bulls inside.”
“There isn’t enough room, and the boys have enough work without moving bulls morning, noon, and night.”
She looked to Mitchum, but he focused on his soup. Kathleen shrugged her shoulders. “I deal with the horses, although I don’t think pre-sale visits are a bad idea.”
Great sisterly support, Vanessa thought sourly.
“We’ll set up a pen in the pasture, then.”
Mat clenched his jaw. “A makeshift pen isn’t a good idea.”
“But it will work?”
“In theory, yes. But we’re talking about bulls. They get upset, they’re high-strung. It’s best not to leave them penned up, especially when they’re used to roaming.”
“So we pen them before the buyers arrive and let them out after.”
“Sure, because that will only take five or six hours. Every time.” Annoyance radiated from him, turning his eyes to black.
“It can’t be that difficult,” she shot back. Yes, bulls were big and messy and uncooperative at times. But Mat’s crew had more control that he was acknowledging — she hoped. “The sale bulls need to be separated from the keepers anyhow. Each buyer will only want to see a couple.”
Texas Wishes: The Complete Series Page 20