Christmas with the Cowboy

by Tina Radcliffe

“I guess we better pick up our pace. You’ve hardly gotten any Christmas cheer in yet,” she finally said.

  “Oh, I’m good. Dutch also made me watch a John Wayne Christmas movie.”

  “There’s a John Wayne Christmas movie?”

  “Yeah, it has a tree, presents and everything. I can’t recall the name. I dozed off.”

  “Who knew?” she mused. “All the same, time really is going fast, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah,” he said, his voice low and quiet.

  “Two weeks,” she murmured again.

  “Are we riding to get a tree?” Zach asked.

  “Hmm?” She lifted her head, brushing away the disturbing thoughts. “What did you say?”

  “Horses?”

  “Oh, yes. Much more fun. The snow is light and there isn’t any ice yet.”

  “And you’re all about the f-u-n.”

  Emma chuckled. “Now you get it.”

  “Yeah, right. I’ve heard that song before. And about the time I memorize the lyrics it’ll be time for a new song.”

  Emma saddled Rodeo and met Zach and Zeus outside. Though the sky was clear and blue and the sun was out, the air remained tight with a dry chill. Rodeo’s breath puffed out in vapor clouds as they followed Zach down the trail that ran parallel to the road. The path was clear of snow, and despite the cold, the ride was pleasant. Dutch didn’t know what he was missing.

  Though truth be told, she’d rather be with Zach. And right there was the problem.

  “How far are we going?” he called over his shoulder.

  “Not far. The woods across the road from the pond have a nice selection. We plant a few up here every year since Lucy and Travis also cut down their own. I like to get up here first. A little healthy tree competition.”

  “Yeah. I saw that one coming.” He pointed to the right a few minutes later. “There?”

  “Yes,” she said. They left the trail and plodded through the snowy pasture to the thicket of trees.

  “Virginia pine,” Emma said. “Let’s walk around and find a good one. I’m not looking for a big tree. Something about my size will be perfect.”

  Zach dismounted and followed her around the grove of graceful pines, dusted with snow. Their feet crunched on the snow, leaving prints as they walked.

  “How about that one?” He pointed to a five-foot tree near the front. “I’ve got your horse, go take a look.”

  “You know, I think this is the perfect tree. Hardly any gaps between the branches. Good eye.” She pulled the saw in its leather sheath from her saddle.

  “I thought I was going to cut it down,” Zach said.

  “Oh? I’m sorry. I usually do that.”

  He raised a hand. “Hey, have at it.”

  Emma removed a few flimsy branches in the way at the base and measured from the ground before she set the blade into position, preparing to saw straight across the trunk. After ten futile minutes of cutting, she stood straight and took a deep breath.

  Was it this difficult last year? Surely not. Then again, she’d spent an awful lot of time at her desk the last twelve months.

  “Doing okay?” Zach called.

  With a glance, Emma noted the massive shoulders and bulk of her companion. What was she thinking? She’d brought a lumberjack with her. Let the man saw the tree.

  “Your turn. Please.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Zach offered a macho grin, handed her the reins and took the saw. Minutes later, he gave a shove, and the pine fell backward.

  “Nice work. Why didn’t you yell timber?”

  He shrugged. “I thought you’d laugh.”

  “We’re friends. I’d only laugh with you.” Her lips twitched.

  “Yeah, like I believe that.” He dragged the tree into the clearing. “Got any twine?”

  Emma pulled the twine from her saddlebag and tossed it to him. Then she handed over a neatly folded canvas tarp.

  “Tarp? That’s not how they do it in the movies.”

  “It’s my tree and I want it intact when I get it home.”

  “Tarp it is.” When he finished, he looked up at her. “You want to drag it home with Rodeo?”

  “You bagged the wild Christmas tree. I’ll give you the honors.”

  He grinned like a kid. “You know, Emma, that actually was fun.”

  “I’m glad.” She smiled back. “So this whole holiday experience is sort of growing on you?”

  “Yeah, I guess it is.” He grinned. “Thanks to you.”

  “That makes me very happy, Zach.”

  Emma put her boot in the stirrup and took her place in the saddle, ready to ride. She looked away as a courtesy to Zach, who was still clumsy mounting his horse with his stiff knee.

  He offered a holler and a raised hand when he was ready, and she cued Rodeo to follow Zach and the Christmas tree. As they got closer to the ranch, he turned in the saddle and winked.

  Her heart shot into overdrive and when it resumed to its normal pace she found herself somehow less delighted with how the tree-cutting expedition had turned out.

  If tree cutting was all about making memories, then what sort of memories would she tuck away for today? Ones that would keep her awake at night?

  Zach was leaving in a little over two weeks. Where was her spin on that fact? They were friends again. That was good. They laughed and shared companionably, like old times.

  Emma bit her lip as despair threatened. Her own self-talk failed to cheer her up. There was no way to spin the fact that she really didn’t want Zach Norman to leave and she didn’t know how she was going to stop him.

  Chapter Ten

  “I am not sick.” Emma coughed again, startling herself.

  Good grief, she sounded like a barking seal, which hardly helped her defense strategy. She glanced at the plastic storage bins filled with her treasured Christmas ornaments that sat unopened around the beautiful and undecorated Virginia pine she and Zach had brought home last Wednesday, and moaned.

  “Even if I was sick,” she continued. “I don’t have time to be sick. There’s decorating to do and cookies to bake.”

  “Is that right?” Travis said. “You have a fever, your face is red and you just lost your lunch, but you aren’t sick.”

  “Circumstantial evidence. I’m fine.”

  “No, you aren’t.” He took off his Stetson and ran a hand through his hair. “I always figured I was the stubborn one, but little sister, you’ve got me beat hands down.”

  “What are you doing here anyhow, Travis? Who’s running the ranch?”

  “Zach sent me over when you didn’t show up for church this morning or tree sales at noon, and Dutch is running the ranch.”

  “That Zach Norman is such a troublemaker.” Emma huffed and offered him a frustrated frown. “And if Dutch Stevens is running the ranch, then we all should drop to our knees and start praying.”

  “How about if I take you to urgent care?” Travis asked.

  “What? No.” She paused. “I mean, no thank you. I’m fine.”

  “Fine?”

  “Yes. I ate something that didn’t agree with me last night so I stayed home from church. Today, I fell asleep after I put the girls down for a nap and forgot to set the alarm.”

  He stared at her for a moment and then laughed. “That’s a cow patty story if ever I heard one.”

  She crossed her arms and tried not to pout like her twins. “It is not.”

  “Emma, everyone gets sick. Even you. You’ve been going nonstop, skipping meals and sleep, and not taking care of yourself.”

  “Who told you that?”

  Travis didn’t answer.

  “Zach Norman has a big mouth, too,” Emma said. “I’ll be at the tree tent in a bit. Let me get cleaned up. I couldn’t possibly stay home this afternoon. We’re already down two p
eople.”

  “We have a ranch with sixty kids. If you step one foot on Big Heart, you’ll infect half of them and the staff.”

  There was no argument for that logic, so she picked up a couch pillow from the floor and put it back in its proper location. Emma glanced around. The place was a disaster. Apparently, the girls had brought most of their toys into the living room while she was napping.

  Napping in the middle of the day. What kind of mother was she? Emma eyed the trail of cereal on the floor leading to the hallway. Her fault for leaving the Crunchy-O’s in plain sight. It was a very good thing every single drawer and cupboard was so locked down with childproof gadgets that even Houdini would be hard-pressed to figure it out.

  “Are you listening?” Travis asked.

  “I am, though you seem to be repeating yourself.”

  “Em, you have the flu.”

  “I had my flu shot.”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  “Fine. You had me at infecting the kids. I’ll stay home.”

  He paced back and forth across the living room. “Lucy obviously can’t come over. Or Jack.”

  “What are you talking about? Nobody needs to come over.”

  He kept rambling as though she wasn’t there. “Normally, AJ would be here in a heartbeat to help you with the kids, but there’s a possibility she could be...you know.”

  Emma perked up. “Are you saying I’m going to be an aunt, again?”

  He grinned. “Looks like. Isn’t that something? We’re not announcing it yet, so let’s keep that our secret until she checks in with her doctor.”

  “Yes. Absolutely.” She coughed and quickly covered her mouth. “Germs! Stand back!”

  Travis moved to the door.

  “Well, now I know why you’re all twisted up,” Emma said. “You’re going to be a daddy.”

  “Nice try. We’re talking about you.”

  “You won. I agreed to stay home today. End of subject.”

  “I checked with your usual sitter, Sarah, but she’s not available until tonight. But don’t worry, I will find someone to help you with the girls.”

  “The girls are fine, I don’t need help. Frankly, it’s Zach I’m worried about.”

  “Zach? Why?”

  “He’s now in charge of my team and Lucy’s.”

  “Your team’s work is essentially complete. Dutch is helping with the tree sales and our college student wranglers are all putting in extra hours while they’re on Christmas break.”

  “Wonderful.” She frowned. “What if you run out of gingerbread?”

  “You froze enough for six armies, Emma.”

  “That might possibly be true.”

  He reached for the doorknob. “I’ll have someone check on you later.”

  “I don’t need checking on. I’m a mom. Moms don’t get sick.”

  Travis snorted. “That’s what all moms say right before they get sick.”

  When the door closed behind her brother, Emma tiptoed to the girls’ bedroom. They were sitting on the floor, completely absorbed in a movie with an animated bright blue tang fish. Since they had watched this movie no less than fifty times, Emma knew that the little fish would be done providing a life lesson in approximately fourteen and a half minutes. Enough time for a fast shower.

  She darted into the shower and then donned clean jeans and a green sweatshirt with a red reindeer decorating the front. Rubbing at the condensation on the mirror, she frowned at her reflection. Her face was pale and her eyes dull. Even the holiday shirt failed to brighten her pallor. “I refuse to let any flu get the best of me,” she said aloud.

  Emma set out wooden puzzles for the girls and then put snack crackers and juice boxes on the coffee table. Exhausted from the effort, she flopped on the couch, distressed by the fact that she actually felt worse. She didn’t even have the energy to comb out her wet hair.

  This wasn’t good. Despite her declaration to the contrary, the flu bug had the upper hand and she was running out of options.

  When the doorbell rang, she dragged herself across the room and yanked the door open. “Travis, I told you...”

  Emma looked up to see Zach on her doorstep with two grocery sacks. “Oh, it’s you.”

  He nodded. “That’s right. It’s me or Dutch. Take your pick.”

  “I don’t need—”

  He raised a palm and glowered at her. “I’m not going to argue with you. Me or Dutch?”

  “Hmm. John Wayne or Oscar the Grouch. This is a tough decision.”

  “Hurry up before we both freeze.”

  “Fine. Come in. Make yourself at home. Nice of you to drop by unannounced.”

  He stomped the snow off his boots and strode into the house. “Great tree.”

  “It’s not even decorated,” she said and began to cough.

  “You sound awful. A cough like that could knock a person into next week, Emma. You need to rest.”

  “Thank you, I’ll take that under advisement.”

  “Do you feel like you look?”

  “Don’t sugarcoat it, Zach.” Annoyed with the current situation, Emma grabbed a box of tissues, cradled them to her chest and resumed her exile on the couch. “If I have the flu, then why am I coughing?”

  Zach kicked the door shut and walked into the kitchen. He placed the grocery sacks on the kitchen island. “I didn’t bring medical advice, only groceries. I have no idea.” He glanced around. “So this is where the amazing chocolate muffins are made, huh?”

  “Yes. Feel free to inspect. Tours start in an hour.”

  “You’re very amusing for a sick woman.”

  She blew her nose. “Unauthorized illness brings out the best in me.”

  Zach began to pull cans and jars from the paper bags.

  “What do you have there?” she asked.

  “I have no idea. Lucy ordered me to bring these.” He held up a package. “Microwave mashed potatoes. Looks like comfort food to me. Where should I put this?”

  “Lower left cupboard.”

  Zach tugged on the handle. “It’s locked.” He tried another cupboard. “They all seem to be locked.” He stared at her. “Why are the cupboards locked?”

  “Childproofing. A strategic part of good parenting. You lock them out of everything and then send them out into the world eighteen years later.” She waved a hand in the air. “The keys are on top of the fridge.”

  “Unca Zach?” Rachel peeked into the living room from the hallway, a questioning expression on her face. She tiptoed farther into the room. “Unca Zach! Bit. Come. Come. Unca Zach is here.”

  A moment later Elizabeth showed up, with a bedraggled stuffed animal in tow. She was less enthusiastic, yet willing to offer her uncle a smile and a good word. “Unca Zach!”

  “‘Bit’?” he asked Emma as he swooped down and picked up Rachel in one arm and Elizabeth in the other.

  “It’s the newest language twist around here. Rachel finds it easier than Elizabeth,” Emma said.

  “Mommy sick,” Rachel said. “Pway.”

  “We’re going to take good care of Mommy,” Zach said.

  “Pway,” Rachel repeated.

  Emma smiled at her daughter. “They want you to—”

  “Yeah, I got that part. I’m stalling.”

  “You know how it works. They won’t give up until you do.”

  Zach sighed and bowed his head. “Dear Lord, please help Rachel and Bit’s mommy feel better. Amen.”

  The girls nodded with approval.

  He met Emma’s gaze and gave a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry you’re sick.”

  “I’m not...”

  Zach’s expression stopped her.

  She could only sigh. There was no point denying it anymore. Her resistance had slipped the moment he stepped into the room. Now
that he stood in the middle of her house like a knight in flannel armor, holding her children and even praying, she gave up all pretense. Her heart began to melt around the edges and her eyes teared up in response. Everything was going to be all right now that Zach was here.

  Clutching the tissue box tightly, Emma stood. “I’m sick.”

  “Yes, you are,” Zach agreed. He peered closer. “Em, are you crying?”

  “No! I have the flu! My eyes are watering. Look it up on WebMD.”

  “Sheesh, relax. I believe you.”

  “I’m going to sleep until I feel better. They’re all yours.”

  “Wise decision, Emma.”

  Wise, maybe, but she hated not being in control.

  Sleep came quickly and when she woke, sunlight was streaming into the room, temporarily blinding and disorienting her. Emma held a hand to her eyes and stumbled into the hallway. “Rachel? Elizabeth? What time is it?”

  “It’s okay, Miss Emma. They’re taking a nap.”

  “Sarah?” Emma blinked and looked around while straightening her rumpled jeans and a wrinkled sweatshirt. “How long have you been here?” She stared dumbfounded at the babysitter at the kitchen table reading a book. “How long have I been here?”

  “I spent the night.”

  “The night? What? Don’t you have classes?”

  “Christmas break.”

  “Wait. Back up. What day is this?”

  “Monday.”

  “Monday?” Emma rubbed her eyes. “I’ve been out for like twenty hours.”

  “Mr. Norman said to let you sleep.”

  “Bless you for that, Sarah. Now I need to talk to Zach. I have a meeting at Randall Ranch that I most likely missed and a video conference in the afternoon.”

  Sarah stood and came into the living room. She put a gentle hand on Emma’s shoulder. “Miss Emma, it’s okay. Mr. Norman said to tell you he would meet with the rancher and he planned to handle the RangePro stuff today. You’re supposed to concentrate on getting better.”

  “I’ll try, but I have to warn you. I’m a terrible patient.”

  “Yes. Mr. Norman said that, too.”

  Emma frowned. Of course he did. She looked around the room, confused. Gone were the mashed bits of cereal from the carpet. The blocks and toys had disappeared, as well. “Why is it so tidy in here?”