Christmas Kisses (Romance on the Ranch Series #5)

by Clay, Verna

  Sean was really impressed. "Looks like you've got the whole town."

  "Nope. Believe it or not, there's tons more stuff. Dad said we can order more every year."

  Sean pointed down the hallway. "What's down there?"

  "Oh, that's the dorm rooms. We have a dude ranch and every summer we set aside a couple of weeks to sponsor challenged kids, and then at Christmas we bring in kids to spend their holidays. My mom got the idea when Preston and I were four and it worked out so well, we do it every year."

  "Where do the kids come from?"

  "Most are found through the Big Bro and Big Sis Organization. There's this guy named Les who came here when he was seven—he's eighteen now—and my dad hired him as a cowhand, but he also helps the organization scout out kids to attend our Christmas party. He's cool."

  Sean was impressed.

  At that moment, a boy in a wheelchair rolled to watch the train. Toby said, "Hey, Pete, you having fun?"

  The kid, who was about eight or nine, said, "Oh man, I'm never gonna forget this."

  Toby ruffled the boy's hair. "That's the idea, Pete."

  From the corner of his eye, Sean saw the front door open and turned to see who'd arrived. Mr. Branigan, holding his baby, entered with his wife and Tessa. Toby saw them, too. He said, "Hey, there's Tessa. Let's go say hi."

  Sean liked that idea.

  Toby said, "Pete, catch you later."

  Sean said, "Bye, Pete."

  Pete's interest was absorbed by the train and he absentmindedly said, "Bye, guys."

  Before they reached Tessa who was now beside the Christmas tree, Preston walked over and grinned at her. Toby elbowed Sean. "My brother likes Tessa a lot. He got in a fight with Jared once for being mean to her. Beat the crap out of him."

  "I'd do the same," Sean replied, and then hastily added, "I can't stand bullies."

  The party turned out to be a lot more fun than Sean had anticipated. All-in-all he figured there were about fifty kids and half that many adults. Since he wasn't a local, he didn't know how many kids were homegrown and how many were disadvantaged youth. It was probably a lot though, considering how big the dorm was. The kids ranged in age from babies to high-schoolers, and the Tanners had something for everyone. Adults corralled the children into age groups and played games appropriate to each.

  After a round of games there was the sound of sleigh bells and the front door burst open. "Ho! Ho! Ho!" Sean laughed at how big the eyes of the little kids got and also at Mr. Tanner dressed as Santa. Mrs. Tanner, dressed as Mrs. Claus, and with the assistance of Cecelia and Tooty, and other helpers, quickly lined the children up in front of Santa.

  Sean got called into action and helped in keeping the little ones entertained until it was their turn to sit on Santa's lap. It was fun, and when a tiny girl of about four squealed when she reached the front of the line, he couldn't help but laugh. She was so excited she started to topple when her leg braces got tangled. Just in time, he saved her from landing on her face. That didn't stop her excitement. She said in a munchkin voice, "Oh, thank you. I fall down all the time."

  Sean got a lump in his throat.

  She clapped her little hands. "I can't wait to tell Santa what I want."

  Sean sat her carefully on Santa's lap and she placed her hands on his rosy cheeks, making sure the jolly man was looking directly at her. "Santa, last year I told you what I wanted, and you said sometimes it takes time to get a mommy and daddy, but I sure wish you could hurry things up."

  The lump in Sean's throat got bigger and from the look in Santa's eyes, he had one too. Cecelia was standing nearby handing out stockings to the children after they had their turn, and Sean watched her quickly swipe her eyes.

  Santa smoothed a hand down the child's hair that was the color of her name. "Goldie, I'm working really hard on that request. But other than that, what would you like for Christmas?"

  Goldie grinned, "That's all I want, but if you have an extra Barbie doll, I'd take real good care of her."

  Sean heard a little sob escape from Cecelia and he wanted to cry along with her. She quickly covered her emotions and said happily when Santa lifted the little girl to the floor, "Sweetheart, look at this beautiful stocking filled with goodies just for you."

  The child walked toward Cecelia with her unusual gait and Sean had to keep himself from hovering over her. Goldie clutched the stocking. "Thank you! Thank you!" Another worker was waiting to escort her away.

  After speaking with all the children, Santa made his grand exit and called, "It's only two days until Christmas so I best hurry back to the North Pole to prepare!" Again the sound of sleigh bells tinkled over the speakers and Santa waved goodbye as he disappeared out the door.

  Tooty spoke over the microphone. "Hey, ya'll! It's time to eat!" There was a happy shout from everyone and she continued with instructions. "Can I get all the workers to line their groups up, starting with the youngest?"

  "You got it!" Preston called with his group of boys around the ages of seven and eight.

  Mrs. Martinez, one of the coffee shop regulars married to a local rancher, Jackson Martinez, herded her group to the front of the line. Goldie was in her group.

  It took some time, but finally all the children sat at large round tables covered with either green or red plastic table cloths and decorated with miniature trees with lights that blinked. Sean figured they were solar powered because there were no cords.

  After lifting a small boy onto his chair, Sean finally went to the end of the line behind the other workers and dished his own plate. Toby called, "Sean, over here. I saved you a place."

  Sean gladly sat next to Toby and ate with his group of boys that included the one in the wheelchair. Everyone laughed and joked and ate a feast of turkey and ham with all the trimmings. Earlier, Sean had seen a guy in a chef's hat and garb, but wearing cowboy boots. He'd laughed and Toby had followed the direction of his gaze. Toby had chuckled, "That's Curley and he's been the cook here for years. He loves listening to Hank Williams, Sr., but when he sings along…" Toby rolled his eyes.

  Sean said, "Who's Hank Williams?"

  Toby craned his neck toward Sean. "You're kidding, right?"

  Sean shook his head and Toby dived into a history lesson about the great Hank Williams, Sr., which turned into another lesson about Hank Williams, Jr. Sean made a mental note to never again ask questions about country western singers.

  The squeal of the microphone got everyone's attention. "Listen up, ya'll," said Mr. Tanner.

  The room quieted.

  "Before we open gifts…" he paused while the children made happy remarks and squirmed in their seats, "…I'd like to thank everyone who has made this Christmas celebration so awesome! And to show our appreciation, we have gifts for our workers—gift certificates to our favorite coffee shop, Dixie's Cuppa Joe." He held up several envelopes. "So, I'm going to give these envelopes to my son Preston to pass out." He motioned toward Preston at a nearby table and his son rushed forward to grab the envelopes. Mr. Tanner kept thanking people while Preston passed out the gifts. When he reached Sean's table, he paused, locked eyes with him, and handed him an envelope without smiling. Sean wanted to refuse the darn thing, but figured that would make everyone aware of the tension between them and mess up the happy feelings of the kids. It took all of his will power to politely say, "Thank you." He glanced at Toby to see him frowning.

  Mr. Tanner asked for everyone's attention again. He held a book in his hand that Sean recognized as the Bible. He said, "In a few minutes we'll open presents, but now I'd like to read the story of the first Christmas and the greatest gift ever given."

  The room became silent except for the occasional scraping of a chair as Mr. Tanner read in a clear and deep voice.

  And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be taxed…

  Everyone listened enraptured to Mr. Tanner's deep voice. Too soon, he read the last words.

  For m
ine eyes have seen thy salvation, which thou hast prepared before the face of all people.

  Sean saw several adults and older children wiping their eyes.

  Mr. Tanner closed the Bible. "There are no words to express the magnitude of the gift given from the heavens to all of us. So, rather than me saying a prayer, let's just bow our heads and all say a simple, thank you."

  The lump that had been in Sean's throat returned as he followed Mr. Tanner's instruction.

  The opening of gifts became a time of laughter, surprise, and much joy. Sean was sorry when the party began to wind down. Soon workers were escorting children to their dorm rooms while parents who had not attended the festivity picked up their children.

  Finally, only a handful of people remained in the great room. Sean watched Mr. and Mrs. Tanner, with their arms around each other's waists, chatting happily with Mr. and Mrs. Brightman and Mr. and Mrs. Martinez. He missed his own parents and had a sudden appreciation for all they had done for him.

  At the entrance to the kitchen, Harris called, "Hey, Sean, come over here!"

  Happy for the distraction, he glanced toward Harris and saw Tessa with him. He hurried over.

  Harris had a funny expression on his face.

  "What's up?" asked Sean.

  Harris only looked upward. Sean followed his gaze and it took a minute for him to understand. Tessa was standing beneath mistletoe that had been tacked on the door lintel. She looked up and her eyes got huge. She started to step away and Harris placed a hand on her arm. "Oh, no you don't. You're under the mistletoe so you have to be kissed." He bent and quickly kissed her cheek. Glancing at Sean, he said, "Your turn."

  Tessa said, "Oh, he doesn't have to–"

  Sean leaned toward Tessa's cheek, but at the last second moved his mouth to gently kiss her lips. Tessa's shocked expression made him grin. Then she did something he would forever remember; her face dimpled into a smile and she quickly kissed his cheek."

  Politely, he said, "Goodnight, Tessa."

  "Night, Sean."

  When he turned and started across the room, he saw Preston watching him. Good. I hope he saw our Christmas kisses. With a cocky grin, he lifted his hand in a salute toward Preston.

  Chapter 23: Christmas Kiss #3

  Even with all her charity work, Cecelia couldn't remember a more rewarding night than this one. During the drive home, she and Sean rehashed the evening. From the way he talked, it appeared he had been profoundly touched. She'd suspected the boy was sensitive, but now it was confirmed.

  By the time they arrived home it was after eleven. When they entered the house, Mac was waiting in his recliner. He smiled and asked, "Did you have fun?"

  Cecelia replied, "It was wonderful. I can't even express how happy Sage and Sarah made those children."

  Mac glanced at Sean and the boy said with no animosity toward his father. "It was great."

  Cecelia was so happy about the way Mac and Sean were getting along that she chanced a question. "I know it's late, but how about we take a ride around town and look at the lights." She said pointedly at Mac, "No one is out this time of night and the city is so beautiful. You could see how my coffee shop is decorated." She held her breath.

  For a second, Mac looked away and her heart sank, but when he returned his gaze to hers and said, "Why not?" she couldn't stop grinning.

  Sean said, "You two go ahead. I'm kinda tired."

  Cecelia figured the boy was giving her time alone with Mac. He really was sensitive.

  *

  Sean couldn't believe his luck. While Cecelia and Mac were out of the house he intended to see if he could pick the lock to get into the only room in the house he hadn't seen. When he started to feel guilty, he pushed the feeling aside. He had a right to know everything about the man who had brought him into this world and the mother he would never meet.

  As soon as Cecelia and Mac backed out of the driveway, he got a tiny screwdriver from the junk drawer in the kitchen and set to work. The lock was surprisingly easy to pick—a couple of pokes and he heard the button pop on the other side.

  His heart beat rapidly as he turned the knob and pushed the door open. The room was dark and he fumbled for the light switch. It illuminated and he glanced at folded easels leaning against a wall, shelves of paint supplies and brushes, a table with books piled high, an easy chair in one corner, and a painting covered with a drape near a bank of windows with the curtains drawn.

  Sean knew his dad was a little strange, but locking an art room was really odd. Maybe the stuff didn't even belong to his dad. He was about to close the door when he had a sudden thought, But maybe it does; maybe Mac paints weird shit. He decided to check out the covered painting.

  The drape was lightweight and easily lifted. Wow. This is really good! Sean studied the outdoor scene that was mystical, yet painted to appear like real life. He searched for a signature—Conner MacKenzie. Is my dad's name Conner? Sean had assumed his name was Mac MacKenzie because his correspondence to Sean's adopted parents had always been signed Mac. He'd only learned his father's last name after arriving in Paxtonville because his parents wouldn't tell him anything. He studied the picture. It looked to be finished. He was about to turn away when he glimpsed what appeared to be a man and woman holding hands. They were amongst the trees with their backs to the observer.

  Something niggled at the back of Sean's mind. He'd heard about a painter who always hid figures in his paintings. He left the room and ran upstairs to his bedroom. Opening his laptop, he signed on to the internet and did a search on the name Conner MacKenzie.

  The first listing to pop up was the official website for Connor MacKenzie. Instead of clicking on that, however, he read the listing below that one.

  The renowned artist, Connor MacKenzie, has been in seclusion for years; however, he continues to paint and amaze critics with his technique that can only be described as genius. He…

  Surely they weren't talking about his dad. Holding his breath, he clicked on the official website. The first thing he saw was a banner that faded from one painting to another. He read the introduction below the banner and then scanned the site for a picture. There was none. He went back to the search engine and inquired about photographs of Connor MacKenzie. A handful populated the screen and Sean jumped backward, almost toppling his chair. He was staring at younger versions of his father. What the f…?

  More inquires brought up pages and pages with his father's name. Surfing from site to site confirmed what he already knew. Connor MacKenzie was famous. Hell, he'd seen posters and prints of his father's work many times over the years. He'd even been amazed at the beautiful, yet sad renderings.

  He heard a car door close. Cecelia and Mac were home.

  Closing his laptop, Sean squeezed his eyes tight and tried to calm the anger rising in his chest like a volcano. Why hadn't he been told who his father was?

  The volcano erupted.

  Rushing downstairs, he heard the front door open and Mac laughing with Cecelia. "You have outdone yourself, honey, and I think you should look upwards."

  There was a pause and then Cecelia laughed. Sean entered the room to see Mac dangling mistletoe above Cecelia's head and leaning down to kiss her lips. After a lingering kiss, he said, "Hello, Sean. I now understand why you like working at the coffee shop so much. I…" his voice trailed. "What's wrong?"

  Cecelia frowned.

  Sean almost shouted, "Why didn't you tell me?"

  "Tell you what?" Mac said calmly.

  "You know what! That you're the famous artist Conner MacKenzie. Didn't you think I had a right to know?"

  Still speaking calmly, Mac replied, "No."

  Hurt stabbed Sean and he slammed his palm against the wall.

  Mac continued, "Let me rephrase that. I didn't think you had a right to know until recently. I was going to tell you after Christmas. Believe it or not, the reason I never told you was to protect you."

  "Protect me! Protect me from what?" Before Mac could answer, Sean shout
ed, "The only one you want to protect is yourself for some stupid reason I can't fathom."

  Cecelia interrupted, "No, Sean. You're wrong. Your father has good reason. He–"

  Mac broke in, "Cecelia. I can handle this."

  "But he needs to know–"

  "He's my son and I'll deal with the situation. Please don't say anything."

  Sean had moved his gaze to Cecelia when she spoke and the hurt on her face almost made him feel sorry for her. He said, "No, let her speak."

  Mac replied, "She has no part in this. It's between you and me."

  A pitiful sound erupted from Cecelia and she placed the back of her hand over her mouth. Gulping, she glanced from Mac to Sean. "You're both so blinded by your own selfishness you can't see what's been dropped into your laps." Her voice rose in volume. "Mac, you have your son back and you treat him like a stranger." She stared at Sean. "And Sean, you have a chance to get to know your father. He's a good man who's suffered much, but you can't see beyond your own tunnel vision." She sobbed, "You're father and son. You have each other. You're family." She sobbed louder, "I have no children. I have no family of my own. What I wouldn't give to have what the two of you so carelessly throw away." Her lips trembled and she whispered, "I don't want to be around either of you anymore. I'm leaving."

  Sean watched her run down the hallway.

  His father called, "Cecelia. I'm sorry."

  Her door slammed shut.

  Sean saw Mac close his eyes for a second and then, leaning heavily on his cane, walk to the couch and sit down. He laid his cane on the floor and rubbed the crease above the bridge of his nose.

  Sean's anger mellowed and he didn't know what to say. He felt so bad he had an urge to throw up. Turning swiftly, he rushed back upstairs and sat on the side of his bed. After a few minutes he heard Mac's muffled voice and then the front door open and close. He jumped from the bed to look out the window. Cecelia was tossing a suitcase in the backseat of her car. Before climbing into the driver's seat, she turned and glanced back at the house lifting her gaze to Sean watching from his dormer window. She stared at him for a long moment before entering her car.