by Tina Leonard
When they were ready to leave, they could just get in their motor home and drive away intact, with Gypsy hitched to the back. Complete, like a turtle carrying its house on its back, they could take everything with them.
Not that he’d be happy about it, but he knew it was best to plan for that eventuality.
He went inside. Barley was sitting in a wheel-chair waiting by the front desk. “Ready?”
“Am I ever,” Barley said. “Let’s hit the road.”
“Okay. Where’s the rest of the crew?”
Olivia came around the corner with her children, chocolate-ice-cream smears around each child’s lips.
“Good,” Calhoun said, “you’ve had dinner.”
Minnie and Kenny giggled.
“We’re ready,” Calhoun said. “Are you?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Olivia said. “Thank you, Calhoun.”
He waved her thanks away. “All right, Barley, let’s spring you.” Wheeling him to the curb, he said, “For the short ride to the motor home, you can ride up front with me. Olivia, you can sit in back with your kids.”
Everyone moved to where he suggested, and he helped Barley into the truck, without seeming to really help him.
“I’m good,” Barley said gruffly.
Olivia and the kids looked at Calhoun from the back seat. “Ready?” he asked.
They nodded, and he closed the door.
He got inside the truck, and they headed away silently.
When he reached the motor home, Olivia said, “Since you have Gypsy hitched to your truck, are you thinking I should drive my truck?”
He met her gaze in the rearview mirror. “If you take the motor home, you’ll have all your stuff with you.”
“True,” she said.
“And you can leave whenever you all decide you’re ready.”
Her eyes widened. But he kept his gaze firm.
“Okay,” she said softly. “Kids, let’s get into the motor home. Luckily, it’s all packed and ready to go.”
Calhoun helped Barley inside.
“Ah,” the rodeo clown said, “it feels good to be out of that hospital. Though they were nice people. Except for the doctor, who was opinionated.”
Calhoun laughed. “Follow me. We’ll be home in no time.”
The kids got into the motor home, digging around for their crayons and coloring books to take on the road. They stretched out in their bed so they could see out the window as they drove.
“Good to go,” he told Olivia, who seemed to hesitate before she got in the driver’s seat.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked.
“It’s the best thing, until your father feels better.”
Olivia looked up at him. “I don’t want to be a favor to you. A responsibility.”
“You fall somewhere above that, Olivia.”
“I see.” Turning away, she got behind the wheel.
“Follow me,” he told her. “Be sure you buckle up.”
“I will.”
He closed her door, drawing a deep breath. Okay, now he had the whole family under his wing.
He wondered why that made him feel so good.
Yet somehow apprehensive, too. The same way he felt when he was rodeoing, right before his bull crashed out of the gate.
Chapter Fourteen
Olivia’s breath caught as they pulled up to Malfunction Junction. The ranch looked like a fairyland with beautiful, twinkling lights and decorations. No wonder her children had been so entranced. “It looks like a Christmas card,” Olivia murmured.
Calhoun’s home looked like the house every cow-girl imagined in her dreams.
“Nice,” Barley grunted as he leaned on her arm. “Quite the spread.”
“Mmm.” Olivia wasn’t worried about that. She was more concerned about the details she had to clear up with her father at some point. When he was feeling stronger, she intended to ask him to tell her the truth.
It was killing her. She couldn’t stop thinking about it.
“Doncha like him, gal?” Barley asked as they went inside the door of what Calhoun called the “second house.”
“Dad, there are reasons people aren’t meant for each other. Calhoun and I have plenty of those.”
“If it’s because of me,” Barley said, groaning a bit as he eased into a lounger below some impressive buck antlers and a large fish on the wall, “me and Calhoun have come to terms.”
“It’s not because of you, Dad,” Olivia said, not wanting to talk about Calhoun right now. Talking about Calhoun was not going to improve the situation. Sometimes, people couldn’t go back in time. Maybe if her dad had been more welcoming up front, maybe if she hadn’t been so afraid of relationships, maybe if Marvella wasn’t her mother— “The world is full of maybes,” Olivia said. “Maybe I should go unhitch Gypsy and put her in her new pasture.”
“You do that,” Barley said. “I’m going to get forty winks.”
“Good idea.” Minnie and Kenny had run up to the main house because Calhoun said gingerbread men were out on the table, freshly baked by Helga, the housekeeper.
To her surprise, Calhoun had already unhitched the trailer from the motor home and was now leading Gypsy out.
“Thanks,” Olivia said. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Yes, I did. Gypsy said she was ready to go make friends.” He walked her toward a paddock and let her through the gate. The horse turned to look at him once, before ambling off to find a good yellow grassy patch.
“Thank you,” Olivia said, “for everything.”
“No problem.” Calhoun handed her the lead. “I’ve got a baby being born. I’ll see you tomorrow. Call the main house if you need something—Helga can help you.”
Olivia’s gaze followed him as he walked away from her.
Her heart pleaded to go with him, to be included in his world, but she knew the time for that had passed.
CALHOUN FELT BAD leaving Olivia that way, but he’d promised her that this would be a no-strings situation. He’d said he hadn’t brought her here to seduce her. His word on that was ironclad.
“Mason called,” Bandera hollered down from the second-story window. “We’ve got a baby!”
“What is it?”
“A little girl. Valentine’s naming her Annette, because she liked Mimi’s name for Nanette so much.”
Made sense. Women thought that way. He liked the name Minnie, though.
She came peeling down the hall when she saw him.
“Calhoun! There’s a baby born on the ranch!”
He laughed and tugged her hair. “Not on the ranch, honey. Annette was born in a hospital. But she’s part of our ranch now.”
“I want to be part of your ranch,” she said. “And so does Kenny.”
Calhoun smiled. “You two run on down to your Mom now. I think she’s looking for you now that she’s settled your Grandpa. Take her a gingerbread man. Or woman. Gingerbread person.”
“Okay.” They ran into the kitchen, then went whooping out the back door.
“What are they so excited about?” Archer asked as he came down the stairs.
“The baby. The cookies. Christmas. What aren’t they excited about?” He went to get a celebratory beer out of the fridge before he went to see Valentine’s addition to the ranch.
“Dude, they’re making me excited, and I wasn’t.” Archer grabbed a beer, too.
“They’re easy kids.”
“And the mom?”
“Not so easy,” Calhoun said. “We sort of split our feelings down the middle and called it quits.”
“Too much too soon?”
“Too little too soon. I can’t bring Marvella into the family, and that’s the thing that weighs on my mind.”
Archer shook his head. “It’s a crying shame.”
“Everything’s a crying shame. Like Last not being here for his baby being born. We do the best we can.”
“Yeah.”
They sat in silence
for a few minutes.
“She watched you, you know, walk all the way over here.”
“Who?” Calhoun looked at his brother.
“The little barrel racer. From the window, I could see she never moved from her spot.”
Calhoun shook his head. “It means nothing. We both know where we stand.”
“Do you?”
Calhoun nodded and then put down the beer he’d barely sipped. “Let’s go see the newest member of the family.”
Archer got up to follow him. Calhoun shook his head in silence, thinking of all the things the brothers had gotten wrong lately.
Suddenly, he frowned. “How did Mason take the fact that Mimi’s selling her ranch?”
“We haven’t told him yet. We were waiting for you to come home so we could have a family conference.”
“Thanks.”
“The family that shares each other’s pain, shares each other’s gain.”
Calhoun grunted. “Let me know when there’s been gain where Mason’s concerned. Personally, I think he’s slid back into his old ways.”
“Yes,” Archer said, “but sometimes shocking news about the woman you love brings your slide skidding to a halt.”
“Tell me about it,” Calhoun said dryly.
OLIVIA SETTLED THE KIDS into their new bedroom, which they loved. “Gypsy likes her pasture,” she told them as she stroked their hair away from their faces. “She told me to tell you that she wants you to come see her tomorrow.”
“We will, Momma,” Minnie said.
“Momma,” Kenny said.
“Yes, dear?”
“Do you wish we could stay here forever?”
The smile slipped from her face. “Well, no, honey. We have our home in Kansas.”
“Yeah.” Kenny closed his eyes, relaxed under Olivia’s fingertips.
“But we have no cowboys at our place,” Minnie said. Her eyes flew open. “Sorry. I know I wasn’t supposed to say that.”
Olivia smiled. “It’s all right.”
“I meant, I’ll miss Calhoun. And everybody here. They’re awful nice to us,” Minnie said earnestly.
Still worried, even about upsetting her mother. “Go to sleep, honey,” Olivia said. “It’s fine. You relax and have sweet dreams. Everything is fine now. Grandpa’s fine, and Gypsy’s fine, and I’m fine, and you’re fine.”
Minnie closed her eyes, then opened them briefly as if checking to make certain her mother’s gaze still reassured her. Then she sighed and shut her eyes again.
Olivia shook her head. She had told her children that it would be all right, but her definition of all right and theirs were different. She knew exactly what they wanted—and she knew they would never have it. It wasn’t something Santa Claus could bring them—love only came maybe once in a lifetime.
Quietly, she turned off the lamp, leaving the night-light on, and went downstairs. Her father was reading a fishing magazine.
“Howdy,” he said. “I swear I think I’m feeling better already.”
“Really?” She sat down across from him. “Maybe you just needed a vacation.”
“Yeah. Maybe that’s it.” He squinted at her. “It’s nice to have someone else taking care of us for a change. No wonder old geezers move in with their kids when they get old. I feel like I’m living at a palace!”
Olivia shook her head. “Palace pass runs out in a week.”
“Not if you get married to that young fellow,” Barley said slyly.
“Dad!” She was so surprised, she started laughing. “Dad, I can’t get married just so you can live like a retired king. I’m surprised at you.”
“Nah, I was just teasing. It’s not my style anyway.” Barley flipped a page.
“Dad,” Olivia said, not feeling like laughing anymore. “Calhoun isn’t the marrying kind. At least not for me.”
“You told me. I heard ya. I still say if that’s the case, why’s my fanny sitting in his rocker?”
“Well, he’s being nice, for one thing.” Olivia sat up straight. “Dad, why didn’t you tell me Marvella was my mother?”
Slowly, he closed the magazine. “Because I didn’t think it was wise. She didn’t want to be a mother. And I thought that was a bad tail to chase. A woman who doesn’t want to be a mother isn’t likely to change, honey.”
Olivia’s eyes filled with tears. “It’s not that, exactly. I never thought much about not having a mother. I was fine with our life like it was. But…the second Calhoun figured out Marvella was my mother, he completely lost interest in me. I mean, I didn’t exactly help matters myself, but that was the point of no return.”
“How does Calhoun know?” Barley demanded, frowning.
“He figured it out himself somehow.”
“And how did you figure it out?”
“Marvella told me when she came to your room.”
He looked stony. “Busybody.”
“Yeah.” Olivia looked down at her interlaced fingers.
“So you think your cowboy backed up a few paces on you because he doesn’t want Marvella in his family tree? Not that I can blame him, but—”
“There was some lawsuit she brought against them, or helped bring against them, and it had something to do with the baby that is being born tonight. It’s one of the brothers, only he left, and…I don’t know,” Olivia said. “Apparently, Marvella causes lots of problems for the Jefferson brothers.”
“Well, Marvella could cause a rhinoceros problems, but I don’t see why it should affect you. It’s not like either you or Marvella are going to take a shine to the other and start writing each other letters. Or calling to discuss recipes over the phone. What does it have to do with Calhoun?”
“The lawsuit. They wouldn’t want her to think of another way to get her fingers in the Jefferson pie. If she’s my mother—”
“Ah. And quite a pie it is. I see their situation. Still, you shouldn’t be blamed for your parents, either her or me.”
“I don’t think Calhoun’s worried about you. But financial matters are another issue. No one’s going to threaten their ranch.”
Barley’s eyebrows beetled. “Well, there’s not much we can do to change who you are. I’m real sorry about it, but a fact’s a fact. All you can do is understand how he feels about it and move on, I suppose.” He sighed heavily.
“Yes.” Olivia rose. “I love you, Daddy,” she said. “I’m going to get you some tea. I saw they had some wonderful choices in the kitchen.”
“Thank you,” Barley said simply. But as his daughter left the room, he watched her, a worried pucker between his eyebrows.
Chapter Fifteen
“Hey,” Calhoun said the next morning around 5:00 a.m., when he realized Olivia was sitting on the stoop of her motor home. “What are you doing up?”
“I always wake early,” Olivia replied. “Country habit, I suppose. What are you doing up?”
“Ranch habit. Have to take care of the beasts. And I wanted to check on Miss Gypsy. But I can see she’s content.”
“How’s the baby?”
Calhoun grinned. “A Jefferson beauty.”
Olivia nodded. “I would never have thought otherwise.”
“Nice jacket.” He looked at the large plaid wool coat she was bundled into, a coffee cup beside her.
“Thanks. I think it’s yours.”
He smiled. “Looks better on you.”
She looked off into the distance. “It’s quieter here than I thought it would be. So restful.”
He leaned up against the motor home. “Only because just about everybody except Helga is still in bed.”
“No, I mean, it’s quiet. Peaceful.”
“Christmastime silence. The waiting period,” he said. “It’s sure not this way in the spring. The grackles and mockingbirds will get you up before the sun does.”
“Poetic,” she said. “The waiting business, not the grackles.”
“This is my favorite time of year. Sometimes I just sit and look at the house.”
“I couldn’t have guessed from all the lights you have strung. What’s your electric bill like during this most wonderful holiday?”
Calhoun laughed. “Plenty. But worth it. This is the only time of the year where all the family comes back home. Unless there’s a wedding, and everyone definitely comes home for that.”
Olivia looked away. “So,” she said, “my dad’s taken a shine to your fishing magazines. He says he’s totally relaxed.”
“Fishing magazines will do that to a man.” He patted her knee, then got up. “Well, chores are calling. See you later. Let the main house know if you need anything. Breakfast is on at six but if you can’t make it, there’s always something on the sideboard. And the kids are welcome to whatever they want in the fridge. Or cereal. We don’t eat it, usually, except on weekends, when we give Helga a break. Try to, anyway.”
“Thank you.”
He nodded. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
“You seem quiet.”
She shook her head with a smile. “Just enjoying the solitude.”
He’d be willing to bet she hadn’t had many times of peace and quiet. He wondered if she knew how cute she looked in his jacket, with her fingers around his coffee mug for warmth. “Enjoy,” he said, heading away.
“Calhoun,” she called.
He turned. “Yeah?”
“I asked Dad. Marvella is my mother.”
Too bad, he wanted to say. But he just looked at her. “Are you okay with that?”
She shrugged. “It doesn’t really matter. She didn’t want to know me then, she doesn’t want to know me or my kids now. It’s not like my life has changed significantly.”
Yeah, but he’d bet she was still absorbing the shock of meeting her mother face-to-face. He wondered how soon he’d recover if he ever saw his father again. When Mason had finally returned earlier this month, Calhoun had felt as if someone kicked him in the stomach. He was glad Mason was home—but he wanted to beat him on the noggin for leaving. So many feelings had hit him—and probably all the brothers—that they all just ignored the situation, instead of hammering Mason as they should.
He wondered if Olivia had sorted through her feelings yet. “Don’t reckon you’ll ever tell Minnie and Kenny?”