High Country Christmas

by Joanna Sims

  J.T. sat down in the deep bed of hay Tyler had created for the calf.

  “She’s so soft,” the boy noted. “Why aren’t you eating?”

  “I think it’s the consistency... I don’t have it close enough to her mother’s milk. Or,” Tyler added, “maybe it’s the nipple on the bottle. I’ve tried all of my normal tricks. But none of it’s working with this one.”

  J.T. kept his hand on the calf’s neck. “What’s her name?”

  “I haven’t named her.”

  “Maybe she needs a name.”

  “If she doesn’t have the will to live, a name isn’t going to make the difference.” Tyler’s frustration came through in his tone and in the words he chose. He didn’t like to be helpless and sometimes with nature, no matter how hard he tried, he was helpless.

  Tyler paused at the stall door. J.T. was gently petting the calf.

  “Hey...if you want to name her—” Tyler tapped the wood with his fingers “—go ahead.”

  Tyler was out of the stall when J.T. called him back inside.

  “Mom seems really happy when she’s with you,” J.T. said.

  Tyler tried to keep his expression neutral. This was the conversation he had been waiting to have with London’s son ever since the jewelry store. He had to wait for J.T. to come to him. The ball was in his court now.

  “She hasn’t always been that happy, you know.” J.T. rubbed the top of the calf’s head. “She never used to smile all that much.”

  Tyler gave J.T. plenty of time to continue. The kid was on a roll and he didn’t want to stop him now.

  “So...if you want to marry my mom.” The teenager finally looked up at him. “I suppose it’s okay with me.”

  Tyler didn’t move for a second or two. He didn’t even think that he blinked at first. He had no idea how stressful it had been to have the control of his future, his daughter’s future, placed in J.T.’s young hands, until it was over.

  “Thank you,” Tyler finally said with a catch in his throat.

  J.T. didn’t seem to hear him. Or maybe he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t respond to his thank-you, but did ask, “Can I try to feed her?”

  The question was unexpected. But he got it. He wasn’t big on emotional conversations, either. “Sure. Maybe you’ll succeed where I’ve failed.”

  * * *

  That night, in the dark, Tyler held London’s hand and stared up at the ceiling he had stared at hundreds of times before. But tonight was different. He was holding the hand of his future wife. When he built this cabin, he had imagined his perfect bachelor pad. He hadn’t thought about a future wife or a stepson or a daughter. Yet that’s what had unfolded. God’s plan was much better, much grander, than the simple plan he’d had for himself.

  “I’m sorry I don’t feel like making love.” London broke the silence.

  “Don’t worry about it.” He smiled in the dark and squeezed her fingers to reassure her. “There’s more to our relationship than sex.”

  London turned to face him, curled her body into his. Her stomach, rounder and heavier, pressed into his side.

  “I’ve never seen your parents argue before,” she said. “I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to hide under the table, to tell you the truth. Really uncomfortable.”

  “Dad’s not really loving the new heart-healthy diet... He’s always been a red-meat man,” Tyler said. “But they’ll work it out. Dad eventually gives in, Mom wins...that’s how it’s worked for nearly fifty years.”

  “Fifty years... I can’t even imagine that.”

  “I can.” Tyler didn’t hesitate for a moment. Like his parents and his grandparents before, he planned on marrying only once.

  * * *

  Christmas Eve at the Brand family farmhouse was a dressy affair. The elastic of her one black skirt was stretched to the limit by her belly and the matching blouse wouldn’t button over her breasts. With a stressed-out, frustrated sound, she pulled the blouse off, balled it up and threw it on the floor.

  “What’s wrong?” Tyler came out of the bathroom, freshly shaved, hair slicked back. He looked so handsome in his slacks and button-down shirt that she had to admire him.

  “You look...really handsome, Tyler.”

  Tyler smiled at her. He leaned down and kissed her naked belly before he asked again, “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing fits. I don’t have anything to wear and Barb said that dinner was going to be served promptly at six!”

  “Hey...relax. It’s just another dinner.”

  “No, it’s not. And I don’t want to be late. Or topless.”

  “Why don’t you try on one of the shirts Sophia gave you?”

  London scrunched up her face. Sophia had found some of her old maternity tops up in the attic and had been sweet enough to wash them for her.

  “I didn’t think I needed a maternity top just yet.” She frowned.

  “What about this one?” Tyler had the closet open and pulled out one of the hand-me-down blouses.

  The blouse wasn’t bad, but it just wasn’t her. It was too...feminine.

  “You look pretty,” Tyler told her.

  “When did I get so huge?” She looked down at her protruding stomach as if she were really seeing it for the first time.

  Tyler grabbed her hand. “Come on... Mom’s sweet potato pie is calling my name.”

  Once she walked through the front door of the house, she forgot all about how uncomfortable she was in the hand-me-down maternity top and immersed herself in the smells and the sounds of the Brand family Christmas Eve. There was a large fire roaring to keep the house warm while the snow began to fall outside again. The sweet-smelling Christmas tree was covered in twinkling lights and candy canes, and the kitchen was bustling with activity. Sophia and Luke’s twin daughters were up from their nap, full of energy and keeping their parents on their toes. Little Danny was sitting on his grandfather’s lap. And of course, Ilsa and Ranger were loitering near the stove, hoping for a handout.

  “A lot different than our Christmas Eve,” she said to her son, who seemed to be a little overwhelmed, too.

  “There’re presents under the tree for me,” J.T. told her.

  She hugged him quickly. “Are you surprised?”

  He shrugged one shoulder, as if he could care less about the presents. “I wonder what Gram and Pop are doing.”

  “Pop is in his chair,” she predicted. “And Gram is yelling at him because he never fixed the handle on the stove.”

  “I miss them,” J.T. admitted.

  “Yeah...” she agreed. “I miss them, too. We’ll call them later.”

  At her mom’s house, there was always yelling and grousing and something burning in the oven that had been on the blink for fifteen years. The Brand family holiday felt like a Norman Rockwell painting come to life, and she loved it. She had always wondered what it would be like to live in one of those paintings when she was a kid, and now here she was. Living the dream. And yet she still missed that tiny house in the lower-middle-class neighborhood where she grew up. No matter how well Barb and Sophia cooked, no one would ever be able to match her mom’s stuffing.

  They sat down promptly at six and London ended up eating way more food than she needed to eat. Normally after dinner, the men would have whiskey and a cigar, but after Hank’s heart attack, that tradition had to change. After the table was cleared and the dishes washed, the family moved to the family room. Abigail was asleep in her mother’s arms, but Annabelle was wide-awake and fussing on Luke’s lap.

  “We’ve got to put them down,” Luke said to his wife. “They don’t know what’s going on yet anyway.”

  “Okay...” Sophia let her husband take Abigail. “We’ll wait for you.”

  When Luke returned, each person was able to open one present
. It was tradition. One by one, presents were handed out and opened. But London didn’t receive a present. She watched while the rest of the family ripped the paper off their presents and wondered why no one, including Tyler and her son, noticed that she didn’t have a present.

  “Mom...” J.T. was smiling enough to show his teeth. “Look.”

  J.T. had a brand-new gaming system in front of him.

  “Tyler...” London shook her head. “That’s too much.”

  “Don’t look at me.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, London.” Sophia held a bottle of perfume in her hands. “That was me.”

  “Make sure you say thank-you, J.T.,” London told him. She couldn’t be mad at Sophia for being kind to her son, could she?

  “Thanks, Sophia.”

  “I’m glad you like it.”

  “Can I hook it up to your TV?” J.T. asked Tyler.

  “Heck yeah... I’ll play it with you.”

  The family cleaned up their wrapping paper and Barb signaled that it was time to wind up the night.

  “Wait a minute!” Barb said. “London didn’t get a present!”

  The entire family started to talk at once.

  “Don’t worry about it,” London said. “More for me tomorrow.”

  “No...” Barb shook her head. “Absolutely not. J.T.—why don’t you grab that box right there and give it to your mom.”

  J.T. got a small box from beneath the tree and handed it to her. She unwrapped it and then realized that it was a ring box.

  Her heart started to palpitate and she started to perspire. This was a ring box. She felt the eyes of the family on her as she slowly cracked open the box. Inside was a lovely dark green emerald, surrounded by round bright white diamonds set in yellow gold.

  She met Tyler’s eyes. “It’s the prettiest ring I’ve ever seen.”

  “May I?” Tyler took the ring out of the box.

  He took her hand and held it as he went down on one knee. Her knees were shaking, and she couldn’t look at anyone other than Tyler.

  “London...” Tyler held the ring poised at the end of her left-hand ring finger. “In front of my family, in front of your son...I want you to know that I love you and I want you to be my wife. Will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

  She couldn’t seem to get even one word out of her mouth, so she nodded silently instead.

  “Is that a yes?” Tyler smiled at her.

  She looked over at J.T. When her son gave his nod of approval, she felt free to finally say the words she had wanted to say to Tyler for months.

  “Yes.” She watched him slip the ring onto her finger. “I want to marry you, Tyler. I will marry you.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Merry Christmas...”

  London heard the deep timbre of Tyler’s familiar voice through the fog of sleep. She rolled over onto her back and tried to pry her eyes open. She hadn’t slept well the night before; the baby had been moving and kicking. Her back was starting to ache all the time. And even though they didn’t hurt, she had noticed in the bathtub that she now had cankles instead of ankles.

  “Merry Christmas, Ell.” Tyler’s voice was stronger and clearer now. The fog was lifting.

  London stretched, yawned, snuggled more deeply into the covers and then slowly blinked her eyes open.

  “What are you wearing?” She had meant to say, “Merry Christmas,” but when she got her first look at her fiancé, the question just popped right out of her mouth instead.

  Tyler spun around for her and showed off his costume. “I’m Santa.”

  London shook her head a little in denial. “Did Santa go on a serious diet over the summer? Because Santa isn’t skinny.”

  Tyler had on a head-to-toe Santa costume, with red hat and fake white beard included. He looked down at his flat belly.

  “Good point. Hold that thought.” Tyler left the room and then returned. He modeled left to right for her. “How about now?”

  London propped herself up on one elbow. “Well...if stomachs come in square, then you’re pulling off that look, I’d say.”

  Tyler patted the couch pillow stuffed into his costume. “Ho! Ho! Ho!”

  “A little deeper,” she instructed. “Santa’s voice is deeper.”

  Tyler sat down next to her on the bed and said in a deeper voice, “Want to give Santa a kiss, little girl?”

  Tyler started to kiss her ear, which was her most ticklish spot, with his tickly synthetic beard and his breath. She started to squirm and squeal.

  “Quit it! You’re freaking me out!” She pushed on his shoulder and fake pillow stomach, laughing and trying to escape Santa’s clutches.

  “Give me a kiss and I’ll let you go...” Tyler had her trapped between his two arms.

  London scrunched up her face and gave him a quick kiss. You were not supposed to kiss Santa! There was something inherently wrong with that act.

  “Merry Christmas.” Tyler laughed.

  “Merry Christmas.” London was up and out of bed. “Why are you torturing me?”

  Tyler stood up and readjusted his pillow. “Mom told me to come get you up, so that’s what I’m doing. Everyone’s at the house and we’re ready to open presents.”

  “J.T.?”

  “At the house...already had breakfast.” Tyler opened the curtains and let the light flood into the room.

  London looked at the window. “It’s snowing! It’s snowing on Christmas!”

  “Yes. It’s snowing on Christmas. Pretty much every year.” Tyler wasn’t impressed. “Hurry up, poky! Mom’s about to have a conniption fit. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have children to delight.”

  It was hard to believe that she had actually slept in late on Christmas morning. That had never happened before. She had always been mother and father on Christmas, so she had to stay up after J.T. had gone to bed to put the presents under the tree, get some last-minute wrapping done and put together toys that needed to be assembled. Sometimes her stepfather would help her if his health would allow, but her mother never really enjoyed Christmas and usually went to bed early.

  She quickly dressed, wrapped up in her winter gear and then made the short trek in the freshly fallen snow to the main house. When she walked into the kitchen, she was greeted by all of the Brand voices.

  “Merry Christmas!”

  She had never received so many hugs on Christmas morning. Everyone hugged her, but the hug that meant the most was the hard, genuine Christmas hug she received from her son. He looked rested, well fed and happy. Her concerns that J.T. wouldn’t feel comfortable with the Brands had been unfounded. He fit in with the family as if he had always belonged to them. His face told the story—he felt accepted here...and happy.

  London kissed her son on his warm cheek. “Merry Christmas, son.”

  “Merry Christmas, Mom.”

  Barb made her a plate for breakfast and she sat down at the table with Hank, Luke and Sophia. After she finished, everyone piled into the family room. The presents under the tree had multiplied overnight and Tyler, in his costume, was waiting by the tree to hand out presents.

  “Ho! Ho! Ho!” Tyler bellowed. “Merry Christmas!”

  Annabelle took one look at Tyler in his Santa costume and started to scream at the top of her lungs. Luke scooped her up, turned around so she couldn’t see Tyler and started to bounce her to distract her. Abigail walked over to Tyler on her chubby, unsteady legs and grabbed on to the red velvet pant leg of his costume.

  Tyler picked up his niece and looked at her carefully. “Have you been naughty or nice, Abigail?”

  Sophia and Luke exchanged knowing looks. Their girls had successfully entered the terrible twos. In unison, they both said, “Naughty.”

  “Have you been naughty?” Tyler a
sked Abigail. Abigail shook her head no and pulled on his beard.

  Tyler passed out the presents one by one. There were so many gifts beneath the tree for her that it looked as if she was building a fort out of presents. Barb had bought everything baby that she could think of and she was set for at least a year in supplies and baby clothing. J.T. had been spoiled with a stack of video games for his gaming system, as well as clothing. The tree had nearly been emptied of presents when Tyler came across a small hastily wrapped box.

  “Here’s one for J.T.” Tyler handed London’s son the box.

  “Don’t get mad...it was Dad’s idea,” Tyler whispered to her.

  London watched her son unwrap the present. What in the world had Hank bought her son now? She felt that the Brands had already gone above and beyond what needed to be done in order to give her son an amazing first Christmas at Bent Tree Ranch. What else could he possibly want?

  J.T. took a key out of the box and held it up. “What’s this go to?”

  “I suppose we’ll all have to go out to the barn to find out,” Hank said with a little twinkle in his deeply set blue eyes.

  London reached out and held on to Santa’s sleeve. “What did you buy him?”

  Tyler held out his hand so he could help her up. “I didn’t buy it for him...Dad did,” Tyler assured her. “Just don’t freak out.”

  They all bundled up and headed out the barn. London spotted the gift at the same time her son let out a loud shout of surprise and joy. J.T. sprinted the last couple of yards to the present.

  London was in shock. Her son was sitting on a brand-new bright red snowmobile with a giant white bow stuck on the headlight.

  “I can’t believe it!” J.T.’s voice had gone up an octave. “This is mine? Are you serious?”

  Hank was grinning. “She’s all yours.”

  London wanted to protest. She wanted to order her son off the snowmobile with a list of reason why it wasn’t safe. She wanted to tell Hank that she hoped he’d saved his receipt because he needed to pack it up and take it back to the store. She wanted to be furious that Tyler had obviously known what Hank had in mind for a present and he hadn’t told her. And she wanted to be indignant that Hank had bought this kind of present for her son without even asking her. She wanted to be a lot of things. But the look on her son’s face...the sheer joy in his eyes...she couldn’t bring herself to do or say any of those things.