The Nanny's Texas Christmas

by Lee Tobin McClain

  “We can take them outside?” Outside sounded like a huge relief to Flint, and the thought of it brought inspiration. He didn’t know if it would work, but anything would be better than being stuck in this brightly colored prison with twenty-some crying, screaming first-graders.

  “Okay, listen up!” he yelled in the voice he used to get the ranch boys’ attention.

  The room went immediately silent.

  Flint blinked. “Line up and wash your hands, and then the moms are going to bring you outside. By the fence on the playground.”

  He looked at Aleesha to make sure at least one other adult was on board. She gave him a thumbs-up, so he left the classroom and the building double time. As he sprinted for his truck, he felt a deep longing to jump inside and head back to the ranch, where at least he knew what he was doing.

  But that was the key: he had to stick to doing what he knew how to do. He didn’t know if God answered the prayers of idiotic fathers completely out of their element, but he shot one up anyway: Please, make this work. For Logan’s sake.

  * * *

  Lana pushed Addy’s wheelchair toward the playground with trepidation. Most of the other children were running ahead, the classroom disaster forgotten. Aleesha, a lovely and easygoing room mother, slowed down to Lana’s pace. “We’ll get them doing something out here, and then I’ll go clean up the classroom,” she said, chuckling. “When I saw those children stabbing Santa... Oh, my. Only a father would think a craft like that could work.”

  “Let’s hope he’s got something better up his sleeve.” Lana saw the children gathering around Flint at the playground fence. She felt guilty knowing she’d pushed Flint into volunteering to help with this party. And she should have recognized a recipe for disaster when she saw that Jacqueline Marsh was running the show.

  “Wonder where he got all those ropes?” Aleesha asked.

  Sure enough, Flint was tying loops into ropes, talking the whole time, letting Logan wear his cowboy hat and stack the ropes neatly beside his dad. As she and Aleesha paused to watch, Flint did a breathtakingly graceful throw and roped the fence post.

  “I want to try it!”

  “Me, me!”

  Flint held up a hand and shook his head, and the children fell silent.

  “Good. Now, watch my wrist. It’s all in the wrist.” He demonstrated again. “Got that? Okay. Now it’s your turn.”

  All of the children clamored to go first, but Flint, having apparently learned his lesson inside, organized them into groups and lined each one up by a fence post, safely far apart so that no one would get hurt. He put Logan, already a good roper, in charge of demonstrating to one group, and after a moment’s conferring with Jacqueline, chose two more girls and a boy to lead the other groups—all ranch kids.

  Addy moaned and wiggled, indicating that she wanted to be a part of things, so Lana pushed her wheelchair closer while Aleesha went back inside to put the classroom to rights. Lana didn’t expect Flint to know anything about making an accommodation for Addy’s disability, so she was surprised when he came over and squatted by Addy’s wheelchair. “I saved a special rope just for you,” he said, holding up a thin, lightweight rope with a loop at the end. “I need someone to rope that sage bush. Do you think you and Miss Alvarez could do that?”

  Addy’s arms moved up and down joyously, and Lana squatted to help the girl lasso the little bush, shooting Flint a smile. Of course. He worked with special kids all the time, at the ranch. It made sense that he would consider Addy’s needs.

  Flint moved over to offer advice and supervision to the rest of the children, and soon Lana saw him pulling aside a couple of smaller kids who were having trouble with the task. He spoke seriously with them, nodding over toward Lana and Addy.

  The two children ran toward them. “Mr. Rawlings picked us out to come help Addy,” they explained.

  Perfect. Part of what Addy needed was companionship. Lana gave Flint a thumbs-up and got back a crooked smile in return.

  It warmed her to the core, and made it difficult to focus on the three children in front of her.

  Flint and Jacqueline supervised the kids lassoing, and the other children ran out their energy on the playground. By the time the buses started to arrive, the kids were able to settle and march back inside—to a neat classroom, thanks to Aleesha—to gather their things. Addy’s aide returned to help the happy-looking girl prepare for her ride home.

  As the children packed backpacks and jackets, chattering excitedly about Christmas and the vacation to come, Flint, Lana and Aleesha leaned against the chalkboard, watching. Jacqueline bustle among the children, helping and hugging them.

  “I don’t know how you do it,” Aleesha said to Lana. “I’m worn-out from one hour with this many first-graders.”

  “Me, too.” Flint wiped his face and hands with a bandanna. “I’m sorry I was such a dud as a room parent.”

  Lana patted his arm. “It was your first time. And besides, you ended up doing just fine.”

  “You rocked it!” Aleesha added. “My son, for one, will never forget this party.”

  “I kept thinking,” he said, “that I could never do this on a daily basis. My heart would give out.”

  Lana laughed and then clapped her hands to get the kids’ attention. “Boys and girls,” she said, “what do we say to our party parents?”

  “Thank you,” they chorused. As they filed out, many stopped to hug Lana and the parents, including Flint. “That was awesome!” and “Best party ever!” she heard from some of the kids.

  “I’m teaching my little brother how to make these at home!” proclaimed little Brianna Dixon, holding up her half-completed, very sticky necklace.

  “You do that,” Flint said. Then as she left, Flint whispered to Lana, “Wasn’t she one of the criers?”

  “You never know with kids. They change moods faster than a desert chameleon changes colors.”

  “Dad, can I ride home on the bus?” Logan asked. “Mr. Smith said he’d give us candy if we behave.”

  “You bet,” Flint said, ruffling Logan’s hair. “You were a good helper today.”

  “So were you, Dad!” Logan said as he hurried after the line of children heading for the bus.

  That made the women chuckle, but Flint blew out a breath, looking relieved.

  “I’m going to take off, too,” Aleesha said, taking her son’s hand. “I’ve gotta collect the rest of my kids. That was fun! Merry Christmas, everyone!”

  “Tiffany, come on,” Jacqueline said, gesturing to her daughter. “We have shopping to do!”

  “Thanks so much for helping,” Lana said to the departing families.

  “No problem,” Jacqueline said. “Bless your heart, you can call on me anytime you can’t handle something yourself. At least I know how to run a party.”

  “Thanks.” Lana held back a laugh as she watched the woman strut away.

  She turned back into the empty classroom. Empty, except for Flint.

  “Hey,” he said immediately, “I’ll get out of your hair, but I just wanted to apologize again. I underestimated what it would take to entertain a room full of kids. Lesson learned.” He grabbed a couple of extra water bottles, held one out to her and took a long draw on the other one.

  “The important thing is that Logan saw you were trying and you cared.” Her worlds were melding. This was her classroom, where she was in charge; and yet here was Flint in the middle of it, doing his best, showing that he was a good dad. A good person. Her heart was getting way too warm toward him.

  “I respect what you do. Even more now that I’ve tried it.”

  “Thanks.”

  They looked at each other for just a little too long. Flint was a quiet man, but he wasn’t shy, and he didn’t break eye contact. In fact, he stepped closer. “Lana, I...”

/>   “What?”

  He shook his head. “You sure are pretty,” he said. “But even more than that, you have talent and heart. Don’t let anyone put you down.”

  “I’ll...try not to.” She felt breathless.

  And then there was more of that eye contact. When she licked her dry lips, his gaze flickered down and then back up. Lana’s heart was pounding, her breath short. She was thinking of how close he’d come to kissing her.

  But on the heels of that, she’d overheard him saying he wanted only to be single.

  And then she’d spent the evening with him and Logan, and it had brought out all her longing.

  Man, was she ever confused.

  “Hey,” Rhetta said, sticking her head in the door, “did everyone survive?”

  “Barely.” Flint grabbed his hat and headed for the door. “I was just telling Lana, I have the utmost respect for what you teachers do every day. Makes roping wild bulls look easy.”

  “Merry Christmas, cowboy,” she said, watching him go.

  And then she came over and perched on the desk beside Lana. “I’m sorry. Did I interrupt a moment?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “Well? Did you flirt with him? Set up a date?”

  “No date.” Lana shook her head. “I’ll admit, I wouldn’t mind. But I have terrible judgment about men. I can’t trust my feelings.”

  “You made one mistake,” Rhetta said. “Are you going to let that rule your life? Love is wonderful and so, so worth it.” She sighed. “When I think of what my life would be without Deron and the boys...”

  “I’m not cut out for it,” Lana broke in. “Sure, I wish I had what you have, but I’m not good at relationships.”

  “You’re just being stubborn,” Rhetta said. “I see how you look at him. And not only that, but I see how he looks at you. Are you going to stay single out of stubbornness, when God has dropped a wonderful man into your life?”

  The words echoed in Lana’s mind as she gathered her things and drove to the ranch. The boys had done so well at yesterday’s rehearsal that she’d given them a night off from practicing today, allowing them to revel in their freedom from school for the next two weeks.

  Flint had told her to take the night off, too, that he was off all day and was going to spend extra time with Logan.

  She had a rare evening to herself. Rare, nowadays; she used to have evenings to herself as a matter of course and would have to hunt for things to do, take on extra projects.

  Between the ranch and working for Flint Rawlings, her life had become pleasantly full. She wished it could continue that way.

  But right now, she was exhausted, both from the crazy day at school and from the tension of being around Flint all the time, caring more than she should. She stopped for a fast-food salad on the way home, not wanting to do any cooking.

  She’d soak in the tub and read the book she’d grabbed at the ranch library, one of the latest John Green novels for young adults. She liked to keep up on books for teens, since the boys tended to come to her for recommendations.

  As she turned into the ranch, she saw Flint and Logan putting up a Nativity scene in front of the main house. The figures were from a store, but the stable was one Flint had been making in the barn. She’d thought it was for the pageant, but now she realized that he’d made an extra one for the ranch.

  Logan looked up admiringly at his father, and Flint was talking seriously to him. The sight of the two of them working together tugged at Lana’s heart.

  Flint and Logan’s relationship was healing. They were closer than ever. She drove by slowly, not wanting to let them out of her sight.

  If she’d helped a little bit with that healing, helped Flint see how to spend the time that Logan needed, then she’d done something good. Helped out in a way they needed.

  They would go on fine without her. Oh, Logan still clung on her some, and he’d still need female influences, a caregiver after school, for a good few years. But thinking of how Jacqueline Marsh had flirted with Flint, Lana knew that the handsome cowboy wouldn’t have any trouble finding a mom for Logan if that was what he wanted. He was a good man. And now he was making an extra effort to be involved with his son. At the playground or the park, he’d be snatched up right away.

  She needed to get comfortable with that fact and move on.

  Chapter Eleven

  The next day, Flint was mending a fence near the ranch house when Nick McGarrett strode toward him, toolbox in hand.

  “Need some help?” Nick asked.

  “Wouldn’t turn it down.” Nick was a good guy, a rancher trying to make it after his dad had run the family ranch way into debt while Nick was serving his country in Afghanistan. Not an easy life, but Nick didn’t complain. In fact, he worked as the farrier for the boys ranch and helped out in other ways when he could. Flint was impressed that Nick made the time to volunteer, and after they’d gotten one length fixed and moved around the corner to the next broken section, he said so.

  “Got a young friend I’d like to see come and live here. Promised his older brother I’d look out for him, and where he is, he’s left alone too much of the time.”

  “What’s his name?” Knowing one of the ranch kids had a brother who’d served would make Flint look out for him a little, too.

  “Corey Phillips. Losing his big brother was hard on him. He’s acting out.”

  Flint whistled. “His brother didn’t come home? Where was he?”

  “Afghanistan. A while back.”

  Nick didn’t say more, but Flint could put it together. The boy’s brother had been close to Nick, and he hadn’t made it. “This place might be good for him. If he comes, I’ll keep an eye on him.”

  They worked on in companionable silence for a while. It got warm enough that Flint took off his jacket and hung it on the fence. A V of geese crossed the blue sky overhead, honking a greeting.

  Over at the ranch house, a door slammed behind Fletcher Snowden Phillips, who stormed down the steps muttering to himself. Behind him, Bea Brewster opened the door back up and came out. She raised a hand like she was going to point a finger and lecture Fletcher, but ended up just planting her hands on her hips and shaking her head.

  “Looks like he’s in his usual tiff about nothing,” Nick said as Fletcher marched to his late-model SUV—one of several vehicles he owned—got in and raised dust leaving the parking lot.

  “Hope it’s nothing. He’s been threatening lawsuits against this place, and Bea looks upset. Truth is, if he wants to, he can stir up some real trouble.”

  “If he had a heart, he’d put some of that energy toward helping his less fortunate relatives.” Nick pounded a nail extra hard. “But that’s not gonna happen.”

  “What relatives?”

  “Corey Phillips, for one. Who needs help Fletcher isn’t willing to give.”

  “Seriously? The kid you were just talking about?”

  “Yep.” Nick turned away and focused on another part of the fence.

  Up the path from the library Lana appeared, holding Logan by the hand, smiling as he talked a mile a minute. She held several books in one arm, and Logan was carrying a couple of picture books, too.

  “Pretty sight,” Nick said.

  Flint glared at Nick, then deliberately went to fix a rail that put him between Lana and Nick.

  Nick laughed. “Hey, brother, lighten up. I’m just admiring the scenery. I’m in no position to get interested in any woman.”

  “That’s what I thought, too,” Flint muttered, ripping savagely at a board. “That can change.”

  “I’ve neither time nor money for courtship,” Nick said. “Too busy cleaning up my own family’s messes to try to get involved with anybody else.” His face twisted with a hint of bitterness.

  Reliev
ed, Flint nodded. “I hear that.”

  “Word around town,” Nick said quietly, “is that you and Lana are...”

  “Are what?” Flint eyed Nick. If people were talking, spreading rumors about Lana—

  “That you’re potentially a good couple.” Nick dug in the toolbox and came up with some pliers. “Cool down, buddy! Nobody’s trying to cut in on you. And nobody’s talking trash about either of you. More like, wondering what’s holding you back from taking it to the next level.”

  Flint blew out a sigh, rocked back on his heels and went back to prying at the rotting board. “Baggage. Bad history with women. Worried about Logan.”

  “Logan sure doesn’t look worried.” Nick nodded toward the ranch house, where Logan leaned comfortably against Lana’s leg while she talked to Bea.

  “Logan’s six. He doesn’t have a whole lot of sense.”

  “I knew your wife,” Nick said unexpectedly. “We were classmates. Now her, yeah, I’d be worried about anyone getting involved with her. Lana’s a whole ’nother story.”

  “She’s good people.” Flint was still suspicious of Nick’s motives. He liked the guy, but he also knew how men were.

  “You’ve got your life together. Good job, well respected, great kid. If you like her—” He nodded sideways toward Lana. “Why don’t you go for it?”

  Before Flint could come up with an argument, Marnie Binder spoke from just behind them. “He’s right, you know. You’d better stop thinking Lana’s going to leave town like your wife did and start courting her before one of the other cowboys around here takes your place.” She held out a thermos. “Coffee. And here’s some homemade fudge to keep you going.”

  “Thanks.” Flint reached for the fudge at the same time Nick did. Flint snatched the tin container first and held it to his chest like a football. “Slowing down there?” he teased.

  “I’m not the one who’s slow.”

  Marnie held out a hand to high-five Nick. “If you don’t do something to make this relationship move along, some of us will just have to help you do it.” She sashayed back toward the ranch house.